


That Someday It Would Lead Me Back To You

by nothinglasts222



Category: Adam Levine (Musician), Blake Shelton (Musician), Shevine - Fandom, The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fanfiction, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, OTP Feels, Platonic Relationships, Road Trips, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7632595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothinglasts222/pseuds/nothinglasts222
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam and Blake on a road trip together. Need I say more?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration found [here](http://your-belle.tumblr.com/post/133715888303/road-trip-au-one-failed-marriage-and-one)
> 
> I've wanted this prompt to come to life as soon as I read it for the first time. During a road trip this summer I found enough motivation and inspiration to start writing it. I hope I can do it (somewhat) justice.

Adam stands in front of the full-length mirror in his dressing room and straightens his bowtie. He inhales deeply then lets it out slowly, along with the bundle of nerves that have begun to gather in the pit of his stomach. He's done this eight times before but the feeling never fails to catch him at the last second when it matters most, those pre-finale jitters that let him know that it's not over yet, it won't be over until one of those artists is standing alone on stage proudly holding that winner's trophy. The competition's stiff this year, and although he has all the faith in the world in his one remaining artist, with Blake having two and Christina having one the odds aren't exactly in his favor. 

He blinks at his reflection. He almost doesn't recognize himself like this. Blake had suggested they both wear tuxes for the occasion, and Adam reluctantly agreed. He didn't mind dressing up but he much preferred to be in his usual, more casual attire of jeans and a T-shirt. One of the show's stylists had applied make-up to his face and fixed his hair. It's groomed to perfection and currently he wants nothing more than to ruffle it up and kick back on the couch with a bottle of Patrón, drowning away all his worries. 

A light rap on the door breaks him from his thoughts, and a second later Blake's head pokes in the room. 

"Get yer ass out here, we've got a show to do!"

Adam rakes a comb through his hair one last time. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

He meets Blake in the hallway outside. Adam eyes his friend, who looks equally as fancy in his navy blue tux and shiny black boots. 

Blake lets out a low whistle. "How long'd it take 'em to make you pretty?"

"Not as long as it took them for you."

Blake pretends to be offended, and Adam smiles, falling in step beside the country singer. 

"No really, you clean up nice," Adam says, "For a redneck." 

"Oh no you di-in't."

"There you guys are," Carson says as he rounds the corner and nearly collides into Blake. "Come on, everyone's waiting." 

Adam glances up at Blake, who's trying not to crack a smile. The show's host is normally very easy-going and diplomatic. It takes a lot to ruffle his feathers, and tonight so happens to be one of those times, though Adam can't blame him, he's a hard worker and deserves every ounce of credit he can get for helping the show run as smoothly as it does. 

Adam and Blake join Christina and Pharrell backstage. Pharrell is sporting his own signature look, which Adam truly admires, and Christina looks stunning in a fitted red gown. Adam shoves his hands in his pants pockets and taps a foot impatiently, glancing every few seconds at his watch, his ADHD getting the best of him, when a large hand touches his shoulder. He looks up to see Blake looking at him, warm and smiling but his tone is sober.

"Just relax, buddy."

Adam smiles in return and tries to head Blake's advice. He envies Blake a little in that way, in that he's always so calm on the outside, regardless of how he feels on the inside, which Adam is willing to bet is the same, most of the time anyway. He takes a few deep breaths to relax his tense muscles and within minutes he's feeling more confident and ready to take on the night. He hears Carson welcome the audience, then falls in line behind Blake, waiting for his introduction on the most important night of the season. 

***

"Some show, huh?"

Adam is busy picking the last of the confetti from his hair. "Yeah, it was," he replies. 

"Mad 'cause you didn't win?"

He looks at Blake and smiles. "I'm happy _you_ didn't."

Christina passes by them and they both congratulate her again. Her artist had taken the first place spot, followed by one of Blake's, then Adam's. 

"I've got a date with Bacardi in about ten minutes," Blake says quietly once she's out of earshot. 

"Does this date plan on taking you out on other dates or may I join you?"

Blake smirks. "I was hopin' you'd ask."

Adam follows Blake to his trailer, eyeing the bottles on the shelf inside.

"Tequila?" he says, picking one up, "Since when do you drink tequila?"

Blake cracks open the bottle of rum and pours two glasses. "Got it 'specially for you."

"Thought you were going to have to seduce me back here?" Adam asks with a sly grin.

"Nah, knew you'd come on your own." Blake hands him a glass. "This first. Tequila later."

Adam sniffs Blake's drink of choice. "If I live 'til then." 

Blake raises his glass for a toast. "To losing."

"To losing," Adam echoes. They clink glasses and he throws it down with a shudder.

"See, ain't too bad. You need to loosen up a lil'." Blake takes a seat on the sofa and Adam sits across from him. His foot hits something, and he bends down to pick it up.

"What's this?" he asks. It's a framed picture of Blake and Miranda, and the glass is shattered. They're smiling broadly, their arms wrapped around one another. What he doesn't understand is what it's doing on the floor of Blake's trailer. He recalls seeing it once at Blake's place in Oklahoma, sitting proudly amongst the other countless photos of family and friends.

Blake shifts slightly. "Uh, it's, uh...complicated." 

Adam eyes his friend warily. "Everything okay?"

"Miranda and I are...let's just say we ain't been workin' out too well lately."

"Jesus, Blake...why didn't you tell me?"

Blake shrugs. "Didn't seem right, all we had goin' on with the show and all. I was gonna, when the time was right."

"I'm so sorry...shit, I feel like an asshole."

Blake shakes his head. "It ain't your fault. You didn't know. It was just somethin' I was dealin' with."

Adam looks at the picture in his hands, then back at Blake. "What happened?"

"She says I seem disconnected. Like my head's always someplace else."

"Is it?"

"I told her I've been busy with the show and all, maybe that's why, but she didn't seem too convinced." Blake sits back and rubs a hand over his face. "Truth is I don't really know what happened. All I know is it ain't gonna end well."

Adam sets the frame down on the table next to him. "So are you guys gonna like, get a divorce?"

"Seems like the next logical step."

Adam feels his heart tear apart a little, aching for his best friend. He's had his heart broken many a time, some his fault, some not, and each time it's like going to hell and back. He can't even imagine what it must be like to all of a sudden lose and have to forget four years of marriage.

"If you need anything, I'm here for you, you know that right?"

"Yeah, thanks buddy. But enough about me, let's talk about something good, like music or somethin'. Can't let all this good Bacardi go to waste." He gets up and pours himself another glass. "How're things with the band?"

Adam chews on his lip. He was hoping Blake wouldn't bring that up, at least not until things started to look up again for them. Blake turns around and Adam realizes he's waiting for an answer.

"Pretty good, I mean, they could be better."

Blake returns to the sofa. "Thought you all were workin' on a new record?"

"We were...like, two years ago," Adam responds. The stalled album was just the tip of the iceberg. Adam takes a breath as he delves into the deeper details. 

"Jesus Christ, I didn't know you guys were in that bad." Adam nods. "What're you gonna do?"

"I dunno, really." He picks at a loose thread on his pants. "Wait and hope it passes?" Blake gives him a scolding look and he continues. "I'm just so fucking tired, Blake. I mean, I fucking love making music but it's like, my whole life these past few years have either been in this studio or ours. And ours has been a total fucking nightmare. I can't catch a break." The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes just how exhausted he is. The more he wants to crack open Blake's bottle of tequila and forget about every single one of his problems. He downs the rest of the rum instead and reaches for the bottle.

"I think you've had enough," Blake says, stopping him. "We both know how shitty you and lots'a alcohol get along."

Blake's right, of course, but he can't think of a better way to forget the very something that he had pushed into the back corner of his mind, knowing that he'd have to deal with eventually but choosing to live in denial with for a little while longer. Ignorance is bliss and all that. 

He's already feeling the drink's effects. He feels his head sliding back on the sofa headrest when a hand touches his arm. He blinks his eyes open enough to see that its Blake then lets them fall back lazily. He feels strong arms around him, carrying him outside and into a truck, a bumpy ride home. As soon as his head hits his pillow he's out like a light. 

***

Adam awakens to a foggy head and his phone ringing. He reaches for it blindly on the nightstand then realizes it's still in his pocket. He pushes himself upright and answers it.

"Hello?"

"You sound like hell."

He rubs a hand over his face. "Way to greet a person after they've just woken up."

"You feelin' alright?"

"If my head would stop pounding but yeah, I'm fine."

"Look out yer window."

Adam pulls himself slowly from the bed and walks to the window overlooking his front yard. He blinks, adjusting to the bright mid-afternoon sunlight. 

"My car?"

"No, not your car, you jackass."

He suddenly remembers the events of last night. "Wait, how'd it get here?"

"I had Pharrell's help. Nevermind the car. Keep lookin'."

Adam scans the yard, then spots it—Blake's unmistakable truck parked just outside the gate.

"You should've told me you were out there, I would've let you in."

"No stupid, meet me down here."

He glances down at himself. "I'm...I'm still wearing what I had on last night." 

"I have faith in you that you can put on somethin' more appropriate and get down here in five minutes before I—"

"Okay, okay, I'll be right there." He hangs up and quickly changes out of his tux and into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, then slips into his favorite pair of Nikes on the way out. Blake is sitting inside his truck, watching him walk down the drive. He opens the passenger door and Adam climbs in.

"What's all your stuff doing in the back?" Adam asks, glancing in the bed of the truck. "Planning a getaway I don't know about?"

"Yes, but you're coming with me."

Adam blinks. "What?"

"I did some thinkin' last night. The show's over, I ain't with Miranda anymore, you're feelin' sorry for yourself. There ain't nothin' here for us. So," Blake pulls out a map and slaps it in Adam's hand, "we're gonna find something."

Adam stares at the map and almost laughs. "Is this a joke? It's too early in the morning for this shit."

"I'm bein' dead serious."

He looks up at Blake. "You mean like, elope?"

"We ain't married but I guess you could look at it that way."

This time Adam does laugh. "You're one crazy bastard, you know that?" He meets Blake's eye, and there's something genuine there. He can see that this is something Blake is intent on doing. And he's right—neither of them have anything worth wild going for them right now, keeping them in this city of broken dreams and broken promises. 

"I have no idea what the hell you've got planned. You could be taking me to Antarctica for all I know."

"I don't have a plan. That's what the map's for."

Adam snorts. "You know they have GPS now, right?" He sighs. "Fine. Count me in."

Blake claps him on the shoulder and smiles broadly, his dimples showing. "That'a boy." 

"Now what?" Adam asks.

"Ya better go get packed. We're leavin' tomorrow morning."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first started writing back in elementary school I used to hate writing dialogue, in fact I never included it in anything because I was scared of it. Now it seems that all I write is dialogue, haha. This chapter is dialogue-heavy but I promise there will be more description and emotion and thoughts as the story progresses.

_6 months earlier_

Blake is in the middle of a football game and a beer when he hears the front door open. He turns and sees Miranda's blonde locks appear in the doorway.

"Hey baby." She coos, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss him on top of the head.

"Hey yourself," he replies. She sets her bags on the floor and walks into the kitchen.

"How was your girls day out?" He asks, twisting the bottle around in his hands.

"It was fine." She returns with a glass of water and sits on the recliner, folds her feet up underneath her body. She looks drained, her mouth a small taut line and her shoulders slumped, and Blake knows it has little to do with how her day went and everything to do with the elephant in the room. It's a typical evening, they're trying to pretend that things are the same as they've always been, that their marriage isn't questionable and hasn't gone stale from months of not giving a shit. The smiles and kisses and innocent questions are just another façade to hide the inevitable looming truth. 

"How was your day?"

"Good, good," he says, and he's kicking his own ass because that's not enough.

"What's been going on with you lately? It's like your head is always somewhere else."

He soaks in the question, the bluntness with which it was asked, and pretends to read the writing on the bottle. "I'm sorry," he says, "I've just had a lot on my mind."

"I don't think the answer's on that bottle." He glances at her, and she rests her cheek in a hand, leaning toward him. "You can talk to me."

He shakes his head. "There's nothin' to talk about."

He looks at her again, and her expression has gone blank. She gets up and leaves the living room without saying another word.

"I missed you, 'Ran."

She turns back around. "Missed you too." A flicker of a smile crosses her face before she disappears from his view. He lets her go, up the stairs, down the hallway, then waits until he hears the sound of a door slam. He sighs, picks up another beer and changes the channel. 

***

Blake leans lazily against the hood of his truck, smiling as he watches Adam struggle down the driveway, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a rolling suitcase in tow.

"We've got to stop this you sitting outside my gate nonsense," Adam says, panting from the trek and the load. "I demand curb side service!"

"Not my fault your drive is a mile long."

Adam throws his backpack in the bed. "So we are taking this shitty thing," he says flatly.

"Is that a question?"

"I mean, what if it rains? Our stuff's gonna get all wet."

"I brought a tarp."

Adam snorts as he picks up his suitcase. "You are such a freakin' hillbilly. We should've taken my car."

"And risk debilitating leg cramps from bein' in such a tight space for so long?"

"Hey, we're not all Bigfoot of the jungle."

Blake smiles in spite of himself. "Just get in."

Blake sighs but doesn't complain when no more than three minutes into the trip Adam demands him to stop for food. Blake pulls up to a Denny's and lets Adam out, and a minute later he returns with two breakfast burritos and a drink.

"How nice, you brought me one."

"Fat chance. Shit!" Adam hisses, and Blake grabs the soda from his hand before he can spill it all over the seat.

"Hurry up, princess."

"Gotta date I don't know about, Shelton?" Adam asks as he pulls the seatbelt across him with one hand and balances his food with the other.

"No, I just wanna get outta here."

Adam settles into his seat and slaps a cap on his head. "You and me both."

Blake takes the big interstates heading east until they're well out of the city, skyscrapers and mountains in the rearview mirror. 

"You know I never told anyone where I was going," Adam breaks the silence in the truck. "My band, my parents, no one. I took my dogs to Gene's place and just left."

Blake glances over at him. "Maybe it's better that way. Makes it more special."

"Yeah. I just...it just happened so fast. You didn't really give me much time to prepare."

"I'm sorry," Blake says, and he recognizes the truth in his words with a pang of sympathy. "I got so wrapped up in the idea of a getaway and I wanted you to come with me."

"It's okay, I forgive you honey," Adam says in a high-pitched voice.

Blake chuckles. "But you're gonna have to stop that."

"What, pumpkin?"

" _That_."

Out of the corner of his eye Blake can see Adam slump in the seat and pretend to pout.

"Are you gonna finish that? You're makin' a mess."

Adam proceeds to make a big show out of stuffing the remainder of the second burrito in his mouth, tilting his head until it hits the back of the truck then licking every one of his fingers.

"Don't make me regret askin' you to come along."

"Oh buddy, it's too late for that."

They drive across California desert, talking about everything and nothing. Blake asks Adam why he got into music, Adam asks Blake if he's really a farmer, and they end up on the topic of the show, wondering if they'll ever quit and if they do how it'll survive without them.

"You know they make a fortune off us," Adam points out.

"And we're stupid enough to keep comin' back season after season."

"Not stupid, _smart_. The whole bromance thing sells, man."

The bromance. Blake can't count the number of times he's been asked in interviews how things were going between him and Adam, if there was ever "trouble in paradise." There was no secret to the odd coupling, he and Adam just clicked right from the very beginning, never taking themselves seriously enough to hurt each other's feelings. That was the beauty of their friendship; they could shoot the shit over a Sunday afternoon beer and welcomingly call each other the dirtiest things they could think of. 

Somewhere along the way the conversation lulls. Blake rolls his window down and lets an arm hang out, breathes in the warm air and the scent of creosote. He finally steals a glance at Adam, who's leaned against the door of the truck with his eyes closed, one knee pulled to his chest. A second later they hit a bump in the road and the jolt shakes him awake.

He rubs at his eyes. "Can we stop somewhere, I've gotta take a leak."

"Should've gone before we left."

Adam sits upright. "That is like the oldest line ever."

Blake squints to read an upcoming road sign. "Next rest stop, fifty-two miles. And welcome to Arizona."

"Fuck that, pull over."

"You wanna pee on the side of the highway?"

"Better than in my pants."

"Wouldn't be the first time, I'm sure."

"Blake Shelton, pull over right now or you're gonna regret it."

Blake complies, and as soon as he stops Adam jumps out and does his business.

"Are you sure you can't find something more interesting to look at than the back of my head?" Adam asks over his shoulder.

"Not really."

"Well turn around. I can feel you watching me. It's creepy."

Blake contemplates sneaking a picture but instead shifts his gaze to the map on the seat between them. He hears jeans zip and Adam climbs back in.

"Tishomingo circled for any particular reason?" Adam asks, eyeing the red Sharpie around the name of the little Oklahoma town.

"Thought it'd be a nice way to head. Lots of pretty scenery, historic stuff."

"Don't tell me this whole thing was a plot to get me to come out to your place and go hunting with you. Or a Shelton family reunion or something."

"I'm offended you would even think that."

"I'm sorry. I've been dying to see Booneville, U.S.A. again, population three."

"It's population three _thousand_ ," Blake corrects.

"I just realized something. Remember that time we joked about doing a road show?" Their eyes meet. "I think this is it."

"Damn, and we didn't invite NBC along for the ride."

"I'm glad you said that because I was about to look for the hidden cameras."

"Now _that'd_ make us some dough," Blake says, rubbing his fingers together.

Adam snorts and tosses the map on the floorboard. "Fuck it. Let's just see where we end up."

Blake switches the radio on and turns the dial until he finds a clear country station. He sits back and lets the sound of George Strait's voice wash over him. Midway through the song Adam changes the station.

"Hey, I was listen' to that!"

"Yeah well now we're listening to this." Adam cranks up the volume to AC/DC.

"Fuck yeah!" he shouts. He starts singing and drumming on the window sill and Blake does the same on the steering wheel, then Adam progresses to air-guitar, head banging for effect.

_"Don't need reason, don't need rhyme"_

_"Ain't nothing that I'd rather do"_

_"Going down, party time"_

_"My friends are gonna be there too"_

_"I'm on the highway to hell_  
_On the highway to hell_  
_Highway to hell_  
_I'm on the highway to hell"_

Adam unbuckles his seatbelt to bring his feet up on the seat for the second verse and bangs his head on the ceiling in the process.

"Motherfucker!" He screeches. He falls back into his seat and rubs at his head.

Blake is laughing too hard to speak. "Some rockstar." He finally chokes out.

Adam grimaces. "Shut up."

The song ends and Blake switches the station again, stopping when he hears _Sunday Morning_ come through the speakers.

"Oh God, please no," Adam whines.

"What, I like this song."

Adam rolls his eyes. "Of course you do. But can we please change it? I don't like hearing myself."

Blake lingers to sing the chorus, and he can feel Adam's eyes on him. 

" _...and I never wanna leave_. Should've gotten me to do the vocals on that one," Blake says proudly as he changes the station.

"We'll do a special Blake Shelton edition for the 20th anniversary."

Blake stops again when he hears _Honey Bee_. "The only song of mine you know."

Adam scoffs. "What are you talking about?"

"You say it all the time in interviews."

Blake glances at Adam and he can see his friend blush slightly. "I know more of your songs."

"Ha! I knew you liked country music."

Adam looks out the window. "Whatever."

Blake feels somewhat satisfied that he got Adam to admit something he's probably never admitted to anyone before. Blake could never be sure if he was telling the truth or not but considering he's a terrible liar he assumed he was. He's curious now and wants to ask him what other songs he knows but he decides not to push it.

They drive in silence for a while, the radio off per their lack of agreement on a station. Blake finally convinces Adam to let him turn off the A/C and roll both windows down. Blake smiles when he takes his eyes off the road to watch the rockstar, cap pulled low over his eyes and arm dangling out of the truck.

"You like this truck, admit it."

"About as much as I like you and your stupid music," Adam says without turning his head.

Blake laughs heartily at Adam's childish display of annoyance, then settles back into the rhythm of the drive, the highway beneath the old Chevy's tires and the ever-reaching southwestern landscape, his best friend by his side and for the first time in months not a care in the world.

***

When they decide to stop for the night its nearly eleven o'clock. After a big dinner at a local diner and driving on for another couple hundred miles Blake is more than ready to hit the sack. They check in at a lonely motel off the interstate. Adam scrunches up his nose when Blake leads them to their room, a rattrap with two twin beds and paint peeling off the walls, advertised at $39.99 per night with color T.V.

"Alright, next time, I'm picking where we stay," Adam declares as he sets his bag down on a bed.

As Blake is in the bathroom showering and changing he's struck with the realization that he's never shared a hotel room with Adam before. He's stayed at Adam's place in L.A. and Adam's stayed with him in Oklahoma but they've never slept in the same room as each other, let alone the mere three feet apart that the room blessed them with. 

Blake eyes Adam lying on the bed, looking at his phone. "I hope you don't snore."

Adam looks up and smiles. "Don't worry, I don't."

"You realize this is crazy? What we're doing?"

"Fine time to come to your senses, cowboy."

Blake turns off the bedside lamp and climbs into bed, facing the window. He hears a door close and water running, then a few minutes later the sound of sheets being pulled back. He idly wonders how fully the rockstar is clothed as he drifts off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_3 weeks earlier_

"Dude, just face it, we don't have anything."

Adam lets the words sink in, then pitches his pen across the room in defeat. He leans back in his chair and drags his hands over his face. 

"I just can't get the bridge right. If I could get that right, I'd have something." 

James takes the paper that Adam has been writing on and Adam winces, knowing it's full of gargled-up words crossed out with angry black lines. 

"Come on man, give yourself a break," James says, handing the paper back. "You've been like this for months. We all have. We're tired. Maybe we need some time off."

"No," Adam says quickly, "I don't want time off. I just need to find my groove again. Some inspiration."

"And maybe taking time off will help with that." Adam watches as James packs up his guitar. 

"Maybe," he answers blankly. 

"I'm headin' out," James says, walking to the door. "You know where to find me if you change your mind." He closes the door behind him, leaving Adam alone in the small studio, just his cluttered thoughts and a grand piano in front of him that he wants to smash to pieces. 

Writing used to come so naturally to him. The words would flow from his head onto the paper and then to the piano, where he'd work tirelessly to put the finishing touches on a song that he would later be so proud of. It was a hell of process but it always left him feeling satisfied, like he'd accomplished something in life, like this was precisely what he'd been born to do. Over the years as he began to take up offers from outside writers he found himself more disconnected from the process, a passenger, watching his own work being crafted by someone else. The band no doubt needed the help when the help came along, with Adam running back and forth between the show and their own studio but as he sits here now he wonders if it was all worth it, if it was worth this newfound misery over something that used to set his soul on fire. 

He turns off the studio lights and heads to his car, the agonizing defeat trailing him all the way. 

***

Adam stirs when he feels a pillow smack him squarely on the head.

"Wake up, asshole."

He peels an eye open to glance at the bedside clock, moaning as he buries himself deeper into the mattress. "Why?"

"I brought you breakfast."

He reluctantly rolls over and props himself up on his elbows. Blake is standing at the foot of the bed, holding something. 

Adam cocks an eyebrow. "Poptarts?"

"I'was all they had. Now get up, get dressed, and let's get outta here."

Adam changes quickly and shoves his things into his suitcase before following Blake outside to the truck. One glance at the darkening sky proves that they may have to use that tarp after all. 

Adam takes shotgun again, offering to drive but Blake turns him down, admitting that he doesn't trust his driving skills.

"That's bullshit, you know I'm a good driver," Adam had said, but Blake just smirked and said no anyway, saying something about how this truck was his 'baby.'

An hour into the drive Blake asks, "You havin' any fun just ridin' around with me?"

"Yes," Adam answers truthfully. "But don't flatter yourself, cowboy."

Adam has settled into the feeling of not knowing where they'll end up. The unknown excites him, makes him happy in a way that he hasn't felt in a long time. He's glad Blake hasn't made an effort to ask what the hell they're actually doing out here. It was nice to get far away from life and not have to stick a reason to it.

"Can I ask you a question?"

The way Blake changes the subject so quickly catches Adam off guard, makes him contemplate saying 'no' because it might be a question he doesn't want to answer. 

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"You guys ain't gonna stop making music, right?"

Adam looks at his friend, making sure he heard him right. "Oh my God, are you serious?"

"Yes," Blake responds, and the innocence in his voice makes Adam smile.

" _No_ , we're not. At least I don't think so. We're just taking a break."

"Sounds like you need some inspiration."

"That's _exactly_ what we need. It just used to be so easy, one of us was always mad at something or someone and we expressed it through lyrics."

"Guess yer life is better now. You know, now that you've met me."

Adam laughs a little. "Yeah, that's it."

A lightning strike in the distance catches Adam's attention.

"James was right," he says, staring out the window.

"What d'ya mean?"

A moment later rain begins to hit the windshield.

"Shit, our stuff." Adam turns around to look in the bed.

Within seconds it's a full-out downpour. The truck's windshield wipers are on high and they're still struggling to keep up. Blake pulls off the road and jumps out. Adam follows suit, helping him stretch the tarp over their luggage and tie it down. By the time they make it back in the truck they're soaked from head to toe. 

"This is stupid," Adam says as he wrings water out of his shirt. 

"Pretty smart if ya ask me. Our stuff'll stay dry now."

"Yay, good for the stuff."

Blake pulls a towel out from behind his seat and hands it to Adam. 

"You can take yer shirt off if you want." Adam stops wiping his face and looks over at him. "If you wanna dry off better."

Adam laughs. "Are you kidding me?"

"I didn't mean it like that, dipshit. It's not like I ain't ever seen you shirtless before anyway," Blake says, signaling to pull back onto the highway. Adam doesn't know what to say so he just continues to rub at his skin with the towel and tries not to overthink Blake's interesting choice of statements. 

"Uh, wait Blake, I think you were supposed to turn there," Adam says, peering out the rain-streaked window. 

"I didn't think we had to turn anywhere."

"We didn't, until I saw the sign that said 'detour'."

"Adam..."

"Hold on, lemme check..." He whips out his phone and uses the GPS to track their location. "Okay, it looks like there's a wreck, but you can turn...here!"

"There's no 'here'."

"No wait...up here!"

"Forget it."

Adam follows Blake's gaze out to the road in front of them. "Fuck!"

"Only you would lead us right into the traffic jam."

"It came up so fast, I wasn't ready." 

Blake sighs heavily. "Well, we ain't got nothin' but time."

Adam fidgets in his seat, watching the truck clock in agony. He's ready to explode by their twentieth minute of waiting. He turns the A/C up to try to dry himself off more. 

"Don't tell me you gotta pee."

"No, I don't."

Adam can feel Blake's eyes on him as he continues to shift positions, trying to get comfortable. "Did I bring a grown-ass man with me or a child?" 

"I'm moist, restless, and hungry as fuck, thanks to that grand breakfast this morning."

" _Moist?_ "

"What is wrong with us, we didn't bring any snacks." Adam searches through his backpack, hoping that he'll find a food item that he forgot he packed. Nothing. 

"Finally," Blake says, and they sigh in unison. Traffic starts flowing and within a few minutes they're back out on the open road. Blake stops at the nearest gas station, and while he fills the tank Adam takes advantage of the cramped bathroom to change into something dry. After that he hoards as many snacks from the store under each arm as he can. A few people give him questioning stares but he doesn't give a shit.

"Did'ya buy out the whole place?" Blake asks, eyeing the pile Adam dumps on the seat.

"Yep. And it only cost me $37.24."

"We could've stopped somewhere better for lunch."

"Right, and we're gonna. This is for later."

Adam knows Blake is shaking his head but he doesn't look up as he packs away the food in his backpack and throws it in the back of the truck, keeping a granola bar. When he returns to the cab Blake is still at the pump, his attention focused on a girl walking inside. 

"I know you're single now but—"

"That girl was checking me out," Blake interrupts, turning to him. "She's hot."

Adam snorts. "Don't be such a pervert. She's like, sixteen. She was probably fangirling."

"Think she'll come back for my autograph then?"

Adam laughs. "Get in."

The sun has peaked out from behind the storm clouds, promising a more pleasant drive down the road ahead. Adam heeds Blake's advice once again and rolls his window down, letting in a rain-soaked breeze and he takes all of it in, the raw freedom and the notion that one of his best friends in the world is sitting right next to him. Adam steals a glance at the other man, his hair still wet because he never bothered to really dry himself off, sticking up in all sorts of directions and Adam bites his lip to keep a sarcastic comment from slipping out. Instead he just enjoys the sight, the half-buttoned shirt, the rolled up sleeves, the goddamn freaking hair, framed by the metal of the old truck and the colorful western sky.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you were right. I needed this. I needed a fucking break," Adam admits, nestling himself further into the seat.

"Of course I was right. Ain't I always?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Earlier you were sayin' somethin' about James."

"Yeah, he was right too." He looks at Blake. "He said the same thing as you."

Out of the corner of his eye Adam sees Blake smile and he's suddenly hit with a flurry of emotions. They whirl around in his head and make him dizzy, so he chooses to not address them and simply lives in the moment. 

***

It was Blake's night to choose where to eat for dinner, and they find themselves situated in a quiet booth in the back of a steakhouse. 

"How have we managed to come all this way and not be oogled by fans?" Adam asks, picking up an appetizer breadstick. 

"I don't know about me but you don't have any fans."

Adam chucks the roll at Blake's chest just as their waitress comes back. "Are you two ready to order?" 

Blake rattles off his order and Adam tries not to stare at the bread crumbs trailing down Blake's shirt. 

"You need to stop bein' so immature," Blake says once they're alone. 

Adam laughs. "Oh, _I_ need to stop being so immature?"

"Do you think she likes me?"

"Who, the waitress?" Adam asks, and Blake nods. "I think she thinks we're a couple."

Blake sips on his water. "What makes you say that?"

"Two guys come into a nice restaurant, sit across from each other in a booth, and giggle for no apparent reason."

"We only got two choices, sit across from each other or next to each other."

Adam rolls his eyes at Blake's logistics. "I'm just saying, I'd think the same thing."

He almost wishes he could take that back. He didn't mean to give Blake any ideas of what he thought of the two of them eating at a restaurant together.

When she returns with their food, Blake asks for a bottle of wine.

"My partner and I are celebrating our anniversary," he starts, and it sounds damn convincing. He tells her some made-up, sappy story about their relationship. Adam wants to disappear into the booth when she looks from Blake to him, a giddy grin plastered to her cute face. 

"What the hell was that?" Adam hisses when she's out of earshot.

"What?" Blake asks, digging into his steak. 

"Now she _actually_ thinks we're a couple. Nice going." Adam spots her returning with the wine and two glasses. 

Blake thanks her for the gesture and pops the cork, pours Adam a glass and then himself. "We've got free wine, I ain't complainin'."

"If she figures out who we are, our asses are gonna be all over the news."

"Like they already are when the press sees somethin' they like on the show?"

Adam opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it, realizing with dismay that Blake is right. He can't count the number of times he and Blake have been the headline of an article from some wannabe news source, showcasing their 'bromance' to the world. It really wouldn't be anything new. Still, he'd sleep more peacefully if he knew people didn't have a reason to think they were actually dating.

They finish and leave without unnecessary attention drawn to them. Adam is pretty sure he heard a girl say his name as he passed, but he didn't bother turning around to give her the satisfaction. 

It's dark by the time they're back out on the road. Under a starry sky and with the radio playing something they both miraculously agreed on Adam hangs his head out the window and lets the events of the past two days soak in. Blake may be far from the perfect road trip partner but Adam doesn't think he's ever felt so comfortable around anyone in his life. Despite their differences they've managed to build a tight friendship centered around crappy jokes and sarcastic comebacks. Being with Blake is _easy_ , it always has been, and that's something Adam can whole-heartedly cherish in his life right now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait. I post to Wattpad first then copy over to here, so you can read it there a day or two earlier.

"Now _this_ is more like it."

Blake steals a glance at his friend, who's smiling from ear to ear and bouncing around on sneakered feet. It didn't take much convincing from the rockstar for Blake to agree to spend the night at a hotel with casino, and a stellar one at that. It's a little after midnight and the place is abuzz with excitement, slot machines singing, people cheering, waiters and waitresses carrying trays of expensive cocktails. Blake doesn't plan on making as big a night out of gambling as he does drinking, and once he catches sight of the bar he parts from Adam, who's headed off to a card game. They agreed to keep their phones on and handy in case they got separated for too long, or as Adam had put it, too hammered to find his way out of the maze of colored lights.

Blake sips slowly on a highly missed Bacardi, discreetly eyeing the people around him. The crowds make it less likely that one of them will be noticed, pointed out, and forced to take pictures or sign autographs. Not that he minds any of that, but tonight is for forgetting everything that reminds him of who he once was and simply living in the moment. He finishes the rum and orders another, trying to get something in him to get his blood flowing and senses on high alert. He's wiped enough to hit the king bed that he gets all to himself but he knows Adam is more squirrelly than ever, if that's even possible. He's in for a hell of a night.

He walks to keep his head clear, watches people of all ages methodically punch the buttons on the slot machines, sees a heated game of craps being played and another of blackjack. He catches sight of the back of Adam's head at the blackjack game, and he wanders over and touches him on the shoulder.

Adam whips around. "Jesus Blake, you scared me."

"Havin' fun?" Blake asks, eyeing the table.

"This is the best fucking game ever," Adam says, and his eyes are sparkling with delight and a martini or two.

"Do you even know how to play?"

"Not really," Adam admits, "but I'm pretty damn good."

Blake takes the seat next to him to watch. Blake's never seen the game played before but sure enough Adam's a natural at it, as he is nearly everything he does. Blake wonders if it's inborn skill or beginner's luck.

"How the hell do you do it?"

Adam looks at him and smiles. "What? Fucking slay?"

Blake watches in amazement as Adam dominates another round. A few men cheer for him, clearly having chosen him as the favorite to win. By the time the game's over Adam's got the entire crowd gathered around cheering for him, and he stands up and gives a little wave before walking away.

"Dude, I just made, like, a hundred bucks!" Adam exclaims proudly.

"If it were me I'd pocket it."

"No, you wouldn't. You'd spend it on beer. I'm gonna go hit the slots." And then he's off like a child in a candy store.

Blake finds him a few minutes later, takes an open seat beside him. "You up for a challenge?" he asks.

"First one to win big gets to sleep in the king bed?"

"Sorry buddy, I've already staked claims on it."

Adam narrows his eyes. "You're goin' down, you son-of-a-bitch."

Adam starts shoving money into the machine and Blake is right behind him. It's been years since he's played slots but he falls right back into the rhythm and the feeling of the unknown; you either get the money eaten right out of your pocket or you walk away with bragging rights and a few extra drinks.

Blake is so engrossed in the game that he barely registers Adam's machine ringing beside him. Adam doesn't say anything, just smirks as the ticket prints out.

Blake leans over to read it. "Six hundred fifty dollars? Jesus Christ, do you have some secret life I don't know about?"

"No Blake, I'm just that good."

Blake sighs in defeat. "Fine. The bed's yours."

Adam stands up and pockets the ticket. "You're invited to sleep with me."

"As cute as that sounds, think I'll pass," Blake says, thinking miserably of the twin bed he gets. Whoever designed a room with that arrangement of beds was ludicrous. "Speakin' of that, I'm gonna head on up."

"So soon? The night's still young, cowboy."

"Yeah, I'm beat from drivin' all day."

Adam shrugs. "Alright. I'll catch you later." He slaps him on the back before walking away.

Upstairs Blake showers and changes into sweats and a T-shirt. He flips through channels on the TV, stopping on a rerun of The Voice. As much as he'd like to forget about home on this trip he's intrigued by what's happening on screen; Christina is pitching herself to a contestant and Blake and Adam are looking at each other, then they break into laughter simultaneously. Blake remembers that contestant, that moment, and it makes him smile.

He changes the station until he finds a football game and calls downstairs for room service. The woman leaves him with a bottle of beer and a few shots of tequila. He leaves the TV volume on low as he finishes the drinks and slowly drifts off to sleep.

***

Blake awakens to the hallway door opening, shining a slice of light right onto his face.

"Adam, s'that you?" Blake asks groggily, trying to push past the dryness in his throat and the pounding at his temples. The door closes and it's total darkness again. He doesn't see or hear anyone, so maybe it has to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed. Maybe he is just seeing things. He rolls over and tries, unsuccessfully, to fall back asleep.

He finally gets up and fumbles to the bathroom on weak limbs, trying hard to remember exactly where it is. He finds it after knocking over a lamp, opens the door and automatically reaches for the light switch before he realizes the light is already on. The shower curtains draw back and someone steps out. His eyes run lazily up a tall figure covered with tattoos.

His brain can't keep up, he doesn't know how long he'd been standing there, staring, when Adam's voice finally registers.

"Dude, how about a little privacy?" He continues to watch Adam as he grabs a towel and wraps it around his midsection.

Blake reverts his gaze to a puddle of water on the floor and rubs at his forehead. "Uh, yeah, sorry." He backs out of the room and closes the door.

As he pulls the covers back over him he tries to make sense of what just happened, but his head won't allow it. Soon he hears footsteps, a sigh, a voice. _"No, we are not sleeping in a bed together. We had a deal, remember? Are you drunk? Fuck, you're drunk."_ All words of Adam that he barely comprehends. He feels arms around his tired body as he is lead to a different bed. As soon as his head hits the pillow he's out for good.

***

"Earth to Blake."

"What?" Blake groans. His head hurts like hell and he has to pee. "What time is it?"

"Eleven, I think. You needed the sleep. You had a rough night."

Blake pushes himself upright. "I'll go get ready, an' we can get outta here."

Adam moves aside and Blake grabs his suitcase and carries it into the bathroom. As he relieves himself a memory from the night before stirs within him. He shaves and dresses quickly, trying to push it away but it keeps creeping to the front of his mind and before long all he can see is a dripping wet Adam. He barges back into the room and Adam is sitting on the edge of the king bed.

"What happened last night? Why was I in the bathroom with you?"

"You were totally out of it and walked in on me. Either that or you had some fucked up idea about sharing a shower together."

"Shit, I'm sorry Adam. I don't know what happened, I didn't think I had enough to get me...that drunk." He busies himself with picking up around his bed, but he can still feel Adam's eyes on him. "You can get revenge on me tonight."

Adam mutters a _gross_ , and Blake can't help but crack a small smile despite himself.

"Here, you're gonna need it." Adam hands him two Tylenol and a glass of water, which Blake takes gratefully. As he swallows the pills he realizes what he wants right now, which is to stay in this hotel room by himself, drink some more, and try to figure out what the hell happened last night.

***

"You okay?"

Blake glances over at Adam nestled behind the steering wheel. He demanded to drive, at least until Blake's hangover was cured, and Blake didn't put up a fight. He actually enjoyed riding shotgun for a change.

"I'm fine, just a headache still."

"I don't wanna turn all psychiatrist and shit on you but do you wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Come on. You're acting weird. Just tell me, whatever it is."

"Truth is," Blake starts with a sigh, "I don't remember...you know...what I saw."

"What do you mean?"

Blake rubs at his forehead, working on the memory. "I remember seeing you with a towel on telling me to get out. That's it."

"You stood there for a while. It took me a second to decide if you _were_ in fact hammered or you just liked what you saw." Adam looks at him. "You really don't remember?

Blake shakes his head, and Adam smiles. "Forget about it. I've got $650 burning in my pocket. What do you wanna spend it on?"

"Not another casino hotel."

"Come on, I'm serious. Let's do something stupid."

"Being with you is stupid."

Adam smacks a hand against the steering wheel. "You're impossible!" Blake cracks a smile at his frustration showing.

"Tell you what. Keep your money, I've got an idea for tonight."

"Does it involve another drunken nude viewing?"

"I already gave you yer chance there. It's a surprise."

"I don't trust your surprises."

"This time yer gonna have to." Blake turns on the radio to silence the questions he knows Adam wants to ask. Adam accepts it and settles back in the driver's seat and Blake does the same, reclining back as far as he can go and hanging an arm out the window.

It was a mistake. A stupid, drunken mistake that he's grateful Adam brushed off as smoothly as he did, despite the newfound realization that Blake's seen him naked, even if he doesn't remember it. He figures it must not bother Adam too much, thinking of all the times the rockstar's done naked photoshoots and ones where he might as well have been naked and he never batted an eye. Blake knows he needs to let it go, it's the last thing he needs to let affect him because it isn't worth the worry. But as the day drags on, he's blinded by the image of Adam standing right in front of him with nothing but a cheap towel draped around his waist. He finds himself, even subconsciously, wishing he could remember something, anything, about those few moments he spent staring at Adam's naked physique.

If his mind wasn't fucking with him like it was, he'd be fine. If every time he looks at Adam he isn't forced to imagine what is underneath his jeans, he'd be even better.


	5. Chapter 5

"Dude, it's getting late. Think we should find a place for the night?"

Blake turns the radio down a notch while he stares out the passenger window. "Not yet."

Adam sighs. "Then how about you drive? My eyelids feel like they're glued together."

Blake turns to him. "Okay. Pull over here."

Adam does and the only sound is of the truck engine idling. There's not a single other vehicle on the two lane road, no road lights, no distant city lights, only the moon and the stars to illuminate each of their faces.

"Shit, we're almost out of gas," Adam says, peering through the steering wheel at the gauge.

"Yer just now noticin'? Adam, we're out in the middle of nowhere."

"As if I can't see that. And whose bright idea was it to come this way? Missin' Oklahoma so much you had to revisit Boonieville?"

"Just shut up and let me think."

Adam snaps his mouth shut and gets out of the truck. He and Blake switch places and as Blake slides into the driver's side he notices the gas gauge too, the needle grazing empty. He doesn't pull back onto the road though, instead follows the dirt road that Adam pulled over onto.

"Uh, Blake, the road's that way," Adam says, pointing behind them.

"I know." Blake doesn't take his eyes off the road ahead.

"Are you crazy? We're almost out of gas and you're taking us farther out into God-knows-where. Do you even know where we are?"

Blake purses his lip but doesn't say anything. He can't help but think how much riding with Adam is like riding with a woman. He tells Adam that, and that shuts him up, but only for a minute.

"I'll take the wheel again if it means getting us to civilization."

"We ain't goin' back to civilization. We're goin' the way we need to be goin'."

"You dick! You planned this whole thing." Blake doesn't say anything, and Adam sighs. "Okay, fine, fine, you win." And then the ride is silent except for the low hum of crickets coming in through the open windows.

Blake's prayers that the truck makes it to where he's trying to go are answered. The little dirt road ends at the entrance to an open field. He parks the truck in the grass and kills the engine.

Adam's voice breaks the silence. "Some road. It doesn't even lead anywhere."

Blake unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. "Get out."

Adam stays leaned against the passenger door and Blake joins him there. He watches Adam gaze up at the sky, so clear and crisp you can see every star and then some. It's not even that cold but he can see Adam's breath, a pinch of white against the black backdrop. His eyes finally meet Blake's and Blake smiles.

"Don't see that back home, do ya?"

"No, you don't," Adam says before reverting his gaze back to the sky.

"You know why we're out here?"

"That hangover damaged your brain? But you'd have to have a brain first, so no, I don't know."

"Because I'm tired of my life bein' the same as it's always been. I'm tired of thinkin' of all the crap I came out here to forget." He left out the part about being tired of thinking about Adam in that hotel bathroom, trying to remember, always coming up short, his memory always failing him.

Adam looks back at him, a hint of a smile forming on his lips. "And staring at stars is supposed to help with that?"

"Maybe," Blake answers.

And in that moment, with the moonlight casting a soft glow across Adam's face, illuminating his features perfectly, Blake feels something he's never felt before. It starts low in his stomach, making him warm and light-headed and he has to reach a hand out for the rearview mirror to steady himself.

***

Adam watches Blake with puzzlement. The country singer seemed fine a minute ago but now he looks like he might faint, and far be it for him to admit when he's feeling less than his usual self.

"Wanna sit in the bed?" Adam suggests.

Blake seems to snap out of his trance. He smiles. "Thought for sure you hated this."

Adam shrugs. "Since we're out here, might as well make the best of it." He climbs over the tailgate of the truck, following Blake. "And I don't hate it _that_ much."

Blake reclines against one side, long legs stretched out in front of him. Adam suddenly regrets his offer. He doesn't know if he should sit beside Blake or across from him, which would leave them facing each other. He kicks at a lone rock awkwardly until Blake says, "Sit yer ass down, you're blockin' the view."

Adam opts for the tailgate, hoping that it doesn't decide to open spontaneously and dump him out like he's seen in movies half a dozen times. He'd never hear the end of it from Blake.

Before long Blake starts telling him the story about the truck, and Adam listens with curiosity. But his attention wanders from Blake's words to Blake's face, the smooth blue eyes, the strong, square jawline, the gingery stubble that's beginning to grow back. Blake finishes and Adam realizes he didn't hear the rest of the story, though Blake is watching him intently, waiting for some sort of response.

He laughs a little. "Can't tear a redneck away from his truck." That's not what he wanted to say. He wanted to let Blake know he loves how passionate he is about everything in his life, how much every little thing, even things that seem meaningless to others, matter to him. Adam's that way too, but it's different somehow. Blake is rooted deeply in his southern principles and that both comforts and intrigues Adam.

He likes to not think of Blake as _intriguing_ so he switches the subject. He and Blake talk nonsense for an hour before the chilly night air starts to get to Adam. He's only got on a T-shirt and that's not enough.

"Cold?" Blake asks, and Adam wishes he hadn't noticed, but he supposes the constant shivering gave it away.

"I'm okay."

"We can get in the truck. I haven't used the heater in a while so I ain't sure how well it'll work but we can try."

"No really. I'll be fine." He pulls himself into a tighter wad.

"Quit bein' stupid. Come here." Blake spreads his arms out wide, welcoming. Beckoning. 

Adam's heart stops beating for a second and goes ice cold like the rest of him. Surely Blake doesn't mean snuggle up next to him. He knows it'll work though, Blake's hugs always get to him, make him melt. But he just can't. Not out here. Not like this.

"I'll just get a jacket. I'm sure I packed one."

"Ha! Knew you were cold."

Adam huffs. "Can we just, shut up?"

Blake shrugs. "Suit yerself." Adam can tell he's smiling.

Adam finds his suitcase and digs through it for his favorite oversized sweatshirt. He hopes he didn't hurt Blake's feelings by turning him down.

Then a thought strikes him. Does Blake really _want_ to cuddle up next to him? Was the fact that Adam was cold just an easy way to break the ice? Is that why he was acting so weird earlier?

He glances at Blake again, and he seems normal as can be. His usual, friendly, charming self. He's just overthinking it.

He needs sleep.

Adam tugs the sweatshirt over his head. "So tell me, genius, how are we gonna get out of here? We practically have no gas now."

"We sleep here tonight, figure that out in the morning."

Adam isn't really surprised about the plan to sleep out in the great outdoors, saw it coming actually, but he hadn't had a chance to think through the logistics until now. How were they going to sleep? In the bed? In the cab? One could sleep in the cab, and one in the bed, but who got the cold bed? What if they both slept in the bed, they'd have to lay side by side...

He _really_ fucking needs sleep.

Blake jumps over the side and rummages through the cab. He returns with two ratty-looking blankets.

"It's all I got, but it'll be better than nothin'." Blake pushes their bags out of the way and spreads one blanket on the rubber floor and keeps the other in his arms. He looks at Adam. "Figured you'd rather sleep out here."

Adam swallows. "Uh, yeah, sure."

Blake lays down on his back, over enough to one side that leaves plenty of space for Adam. Relief washes over him. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

Adam kicks off his shoes and lowers himself next to Blake. "I don't think I've ever slept under the stars before."

"Ya need to get out more." Blake throws the blanket over both of them before turning onto his side.

Adam takes one last sweep of the night sky before settling his gaze on Blake's back. He lets it linger there a moment, then he rolls over and falls asleep easily.

***

Adam blinks his eyes open. It takes him a second to remember he slept outside last night. In a truck. With Blake.

He whips his head to his right and scans the area. There's a pile of suitcases and a blanket but no Blake. He sits upright, rubs at his eyes, and looks around. He can finally get a good look at his surroundings, and they really are in the middle of nowhere. He traces the dirt road they came in on up to the main road, and there's not another vehicle in sight. They're parked just at the entrance to a large meadow surrounded by trees. A barbed wire fence encloses a woods to the left, and past that are pale green rolling hills. Adam squints, he thinks he make out a house, a dark dot on one of the hills. To the right is nothing but flat barren land, stretching for miles.

Adam climbs out of the truck and relives himself. He wishes Blake had left him a note or something to let him know where he'd gone. Knowing him he was probably off hunting down their breakfast.

Adam takes it upon himself and decides to venture into the woods toward the sign of civilization. He squeezes through the strands on the barbed wire fence and snags his shirt then his jeans.

"Fucker," he curses under his breath. He gets free and walks carefully through the dense forest. He spots a squirrel run up a tree and some birds scuttling in tangled brush but no sign of Blake. The further in he goes the less he can make out the truck behind him, and before long, when he turns around, he can no longer see it all. Panic begins to set in, and he doesn't know whether he should try to make it to the other side or turn around now before he really gets himself lost. He decides on the latter, and picks up his pace as he heads back in the general direction of the truck.

He then hears something behind him, not a squirrel or a bird but something larger, and it's coming toward him. He runs until he nearly collides with the barbed wire fence. He shimmies through, snagging himself again, and only when he is safely against the truck does he turn around. A moment later Blake's tall figure comes looming into sight, and Adam lets out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"You sure were runnin' fast," Blake says. The goddamn bastard's smiling.

"I thought something was chasing me. Turns out it was just Bigfoot." He eyes Blake's hand. "What's that?"

"I got us some gas," Blake says, holding the gas can up proudly.

"Where?"

Blake nods toward the woods. "Other side of that woods is a nice little farm."

" _Little?_ "

"Nice farmer too. He gave me the gas in exchange for my autograph."

Adam snorts. "You're kidding, right?"

Blake starts pouring the gas into the truck. "What can I say, man's a fan."

Adam leans against the truck, watches Blake. "You could've told me where you were going. I nearly killed myself going out there to find you."

"Stop bein' such a city boy. Lil' squirrel never hurt anybody."

"Yeah but the fucking barbed wire fence did."

Blake looks at him and smiles. "We really need to get you out more." He closes the gas cap and throws the can in the bed. "Alright. We're ready to roll."

Adam climbs into the passenger seat and takes one last look around them. "I think I'm actually going to miss this, sleeping under the stars stuff."

"We got plenty of nights ahead of us. You won't have to miss it for that long."

As Blake takes them back to the main road Adam lets that sink in. He doesn't know how many more days they'll be gone, but the last thing he wants right now is to go back home. He knows he'd spend more nights like last in a heartbeat. Especially with Blake by his side.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting there. Just hang with me.

"We've been gone for almost four days and we still haven't made it to the coast. If that doesn't say something about you and your _great_ directions I don't know what does."

Blake pulls on a pair of sunglasses. "Check the map. We only got a couple more hours."

" _The map_ ," Adam repeats, "You mean the thing you so had to have but obviously didn't use this entire trip."

Blake smiles. "Just relax. Once we get there you can have your tequila on the beach that I know you been dyin' for."

Adam pumps his fist. "Yes!"

"But you know I'm not much of a water person."

"We don't have to stay forever. Just one night. At least give me that."

" _One night_ ," Blake repeats. He can feel Adam bubbling with excitement next to him, and he's already vowing to himself not to drink like he did at the casino. He'll let Adam have the fun this time.

Blake glances over to see Adam with his phone pressed up against his ear.

"Who're you callin'?"

Adam pulls the phone away. "James. He called me last night and I missed it."

Blake nods, and then reality smacks him square in the face. Living life on the complete opposite side of the country is easy when they can forget that they both have very demanding lives back home. It's hard to think about now, out here with an east coast breeze rolling in through the windows and Adam kicked back riding shotgun, but sooner or later they'll both have to face the demons in their lives. He feels a pang of sympathy as he steals a couple glances at Adam on the phone with his bandmate. 

"Everything okay?" Blake asks as Adam pockets the phone.

"Yeah, great. He was just wondering where the hell I was."

"I'm sure I made things hard on you, I know you left without sayin' much to anybody."

"We've already been over this. It's not like you dragged me out here against my will. I agreed to come."

"I know."

"So forget about feeling sorry for me or yourself or whatever, and let's have a fucking good time."

Blake smiles, Adam's optimism growing on him.

"Besides, we'll be on the beach soon. Saltwater makes _everything_ better."

***

Blake doesn't know how he ended up here, at a resort right on the beach with a balcony view of the pool and bar area sitting at the ocean's edge. He promised Adam they'd stay the one night, and although he knows Adam will push it he's definitely holding up his end of the bargain. As he stands on the little balcony and looks out at the warm late afternoon day he doesn't know how much longer he could stand to stay here and still retain some sort of masculinity.

He wishes he were still in the woods.

Back inside Adam walks out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of Hawaiin-themed trunks. Hideous, yet somehow attractive.

"What the _hell_ are you wearin'?" Blake asks.

Adam throws him the finger. "Better question is, what are _you_ wearing?" His eyes scan over Blake before settling on his face.

"I told you. I'm not a water person."

"There is no way in hell you're going down there in jeans and cowboy boots. I will not allow it."

"What are you, my mother?"

"At least put on some shorts and some other kind of footwear." Adam digs through his suitcase for the items.

Blake eyes Adam's back, the elaborate new tattoo stretching across its entirety. Adam straightens up and Blake shifts his gaze to the clothes in his hands.

"Here." He hands Blake a wadded up pair of shorts and flip flops.

Blake tries one shoe on for size, and hears Adam chuckle as he tries to wedge it onto his foot.

"Fine. Then you're goin' barefoot."

Blake slips into the bathroom to change. He's trying to get a grip on himself, the crazy tricks his mind is playing on him. But no promises are being made on what feelings will stir up inside him when he sees Adam shirtless, wet, covered in sand, and a little bit drunk.

"Hurry up!" He hears Adam snap outside the door.

He's surprised that Adam's shorts fit him relatively well, other than being shorter than a heterosexual male's should be.

"Nice," Adam says when he walks out. "But take your shirt off."

"You wantin'a check me out?"

"Psh, why wouldn't I? I'm just trying to give you some much-needed fashion advice so you don't stick out like a sore thumb. You should be thanking me."

Blake hangs on Adam's first words, but is quickly forced to forget as Adam leads the way out of the room. The lobby downstairs is quiet, peaceful even, and for the first time Blake thinks that this might not be such a terrible idea.

"I haven't been to the beach in years," he admits as they walk side by side to the water.

"You live in L.A. half the year, there's a beach right at your feet. Sounds like _you're_ the one who needs to get out more."

Blake smiles. He deserved that one.

The South Carolina day is hot but welcoming. Blake picks a spot in the sand away from the serious sunbathers and families with small children as Adam rents an umbrella and two chairs. They set them up, then Adam kicks off his flip flops and heads for the water. He keeps walking until he's waist deep, then dives underwater, comes up and shakes his head so that his hair is sticking up in every direction. He turns around and motions for Blake to join him.

"Think I'll stay here!" Blake shouts back.

"Get in here, you big freakin' hillbilly! I can't freeze my ass off alone."

Blake sighs and reluctantly heads toward him. Adam splashes an armful of water on him as soon as he gets close enough.

"You've just been dyin' to do that, haven't you."

"Now do you wanna take your shirt off?"

Blake looks down at himself, the water soaking through his shirt and plastering it to his skin. "Not really."

"Come on," Adam whines. "I'm not judging you or anything, if that's what you're worried about."

Something inside of Blake snaps. "I'm not worried about anything, Adam, I don't want to." He sets his jaw and keeps his eyes on Adam. They'd been over this before.

Adam's smile fades and he blinks. "Okay."

Blake's anger is quickly replaced with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he mutters. He turns and trudges back toward the hotel, not pausing when Adam calls his name or when curious beachgoers stop and stare at him.

***

"You in here, Bigfoot?"

Blake sits upright on the bed. "Yeah." The door to their room opens and Adam walks in.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just—"

"Not a water person. I know." A pause. "I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable out there."

"It's nothin' you did."

"Then what is it?"

"You know I don't ever go shirtless in public."

"I know. I just thought you'd be okay, you know, with me."

Adam sits next to him on the bed, too close, their skin nearly touching and Adam's is still wet and hot and Blake realizes this is doing nothing to make his situation better.

He'll never be okay, with anybody. Especially not Adam.

"I just don't want you to miss out on opportunities."

"Opportunities to humiliate myself?"

"No, to enjoy your life. To not give a fuck what other people think."

Adam's right, and Blake hates himself for feeling this way. He hates feeling so aesthetically inferior to Adam that he throws temper tantrums and sulks instead of spending time with him.

"I've never seen you shirtless, and I don't know how much of the world has, but you have nothing to hide."

"Yeah." Blake laughs half-heartedly. "There's a reason for that."

Adam stands up. "I'm not going to sit here any longer and let you talk down on yourself." He grabs Blake's wrists and pulls him off the bed. "Now, we're going back out there, and you don't have to take your shirt off, but you do have to have fun. Got it, cowboy?"

Blake can't help but crack a smile. "Got it."

As shitty as he still feels, he finds an inkling of comfort in the fact that Adam seems highly interested in seeing him half naked.

***

The scent of Adam's margarita fills the air around them, mixes with saltwater and wet earth, and for the first time since being here Blake feels completely at ease. He sucked up his insecurities and did just as Adam said, had a damn good time, and now the two of them are reclined on their beach chairs, watching the water stained red from the setting sun lapping up against the shore. Most of the people have gone in for the night, leaving only the most dedicated beachgoers and the couples hoping to have a romantic evening to themselves. It's perfect, in a way, different from anything Blake ever imagined himself loving but he knows this trip has already changed him.

"Wanna sip?" Adam asks. He waves the glass under Blake's nose so that he has no choice but to accept. It's sweet and rich, leaving an unforgettable taste on Blake's tongue.

"Damn." Blake licks his lips and Adam finishes off the rest and sets the glass aside.

"Told you. You want one?"

Blake watches the tattoos on Adam's torso twist as his body bends. "It's too addicting."

Adam smirks. "All the more reason. Come on."

They take seats at the tiki hut bar. The smell of alcohol becomes overwhelming, and Blake lets it soak in. God, how he's missed it.

Strands of lights strung up overhead swoop down from the rafters, softly illuminating the empty bar. One catches the light in Adam's eyes perfectly whenever he looks at Blake, making Blake wish he'd look his way more often.

Once Blake catches him staring, and Adam quickly darts his eyes away, looks down at his hands, his drink in them, Blake can't tell, and does it so as to pretend like his eyes never wandered to Blake, but Blake saw it, saw it written on his face in that split second before he turned it away. The bartender brings them another drink, and as they both reach for it at the same time their hands gently brush. Blake swallows, feels a heat creep to his cheeks, then Adam snatches the drink and his hand is gone.

"Too slow." Adam's eyes are twinkling behind the glass at his lips. 

A breeze flows in, fluttering Blake's shirt against his chest and gliding across his hot skin.

"Wanna take a walk?" Blake asks, and Adam nods. Blake pays the tab and they wander down the shoreline, ankle deep in water chilled by the night air.

Adam kicks up a toe-full of wet sand, aiming it at Blake's leg.

Blake skirts out of the way. "You're such a child."

A jellyfish catches Adam's attention, and he stops to study it, Blake watching from a few steps back.

"Careful," Blake warns.

Suddenly Adam makes a squeaking sound followed by a string of curses, and he reels backward and collides into Blake's chest. He knocks the wind out of Blake, but Blake grabs him to keep him from falling.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry," Adam answers, but instead of pushing away, Adam hangs onto Blake, his hands wrapped tightly in his shirt, their stomach's flush up against one another's so that Blake can feel his heart beating fast. He gently places a hand on Adam's bare waist and looks down into dark eyes.

For a second Adam looks like he wants to kiss Blake, which wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary, they've kissed dozens of times on the show, during interviews, and for stupid bets but this time Adam is looking at Blake's lips, as if at any moment he could stand up on tiptoe and graze his lips over Blake's mouth. Blake's never felt those lips; he bets they're soft and maybe taste like tequila.

Jesus Christ, Blake wants to kiss him.

Then Adam isn't holding onto him anymore; he's a few feet away, looking at Blake but this time at his eyes and not his lips, and Blake feels like a part of him was ripped to shreds even if there wasn't anything there to rip to start with.

"Dude, you're still technically married." Adam's voice cuts like a knife through the thick air.

So Blake isn't imagining things. There was something there, even for a second, a spark that neither of them can deny. Then reality comes crashing down on him and dammit, Adam's right.

But what's he supposed to say? That he doesn't give a shit that he's still married to Miranda? That he wanted to kiss Adam for real in that moment?

"Besides, it was kind of creepy, you know?"

_Shit_.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Blake says, trying to play it off. Trying to be okay with the fact Adam is insinuating it was all Blake's idea and he wanted nothing to do with it.

Or maybe he's just a damn good liar.

Adam tears his eyes away, looks down at the water. "We scared away the jellyfish, at least."

Blake attempts a laugh, he doesn't really know why, it's forced and strangled with the feelings he's holding back.

Adam starts meandering down the beach again and Blake follows a second later, pretending nothing happened, trying to erase it from his memory. It's probably for the best, anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

When Adam opens his eyes the room is pitch black. He rolls around in warm sheets fitfully before accepting that he isn't going to fall back to sleep.

Something trips him on his way to the bathroom, a pair of his shorts that he had loaned to Blake. A few steps further is Blake's signature button-down. Both were tossed haphazardly, landing in little clumps.

Adam heads to the balcony, slides the door open and is met with the chilly air. The pool area below is eerily quiet. Pole lights cast palm trees in soft shadows, creating irregular patches of light on the pool water. Adam watches one spot of water that seems to be moving more than the rest, and a minute later someone appears at the surface. The man rubs his hands across his face and shakes his head, sending water droplets flying.

"Blake? What are you doing?" Adam calls, stretching over the balcony railing.

Even in the low light he can spot Blake's unmistakable smirk. "Havin' a little midnight swim."

"How'd you get down there?"

"I jumped."

Adam remembers the discarded clothing he passed. "Seriously?"

"No stupid. Now get yer ass on an elevator and get down here."

It's so real and enticing. He turns to leave when he catches a glimpse of Blake, pressed up against the side of the pool, his hands on the pavement as he lifts himself out of the water. He's naked, and Adam's eyes strain to see through the darkness but suddenly he can't see anything anymore, he can't see Blake and he can't see the water and he doesn't know where he is or what's happening and just as panic begins to set in he feels a strong jolt and then his shoulder slams into something hard.

A light to his right flicks off and out of the corner of his eye he sees feet shuffling. "Adam?"

It takes him another conscious second to realize he's lying on the ground and it's Blake who is saying his name. He jumps up too quickly and makes himself dizzy.

"Everything okay?" Blake asks.

"Yeah, I'm good," he answers, embarrassment settling in. He hasn't fallen out of the bed since he was a little kid. He rubs his aching shoulder.

Blake walks by him. "I thought I heard somethin' out here. Did you fall outta bed?"

"I had a bad dream, I guess," he mumbles.

"Need me to sleep with you?"

It takes Adam half to a second to realize Blake's joking, enough to squeeze the air from his chest. He lets the question slide and climbs back into bed, knowing he won't get a wink of sleep, not tonight. He lays face up, staring at the white ceiling tiles for what seems like hours, dwelling on the dream.

At first the realization comes on slowly, drifts lazily in and out of his thoughts, then it hits him all at once, like falling face first on a hot sidewalk, unexpected yet more real than you could ever imagine. The memory of Blake's lips inches from his own clouds his vision, Blake's hand on his bare hips sends shivers down his spine. If he had just pulled Blake's face into his own and made it happen he wouldn't be laying here in agony right now. He could have burned that barrier down and dealt with the repercussions later, or maybe never, because as hard as he's ever tried to deny it there's no inkling of doubt in him now that he wants Blake. He wants every part of his fucking hillbilly cowboy self, the stupid accent and the stupid jokes and the stupid hair that's a million different colors and the stupid plaid shirts and jeans and boots. And as soon as all of it sinks in, the fact that he knows, he _knows_ , that he's interested in Blake as more than a friend, he feels like the master of his own delusional mind and suddenly everything makes sense.

He wills himself not to look Blake's way but his head turns anyway, as if to make sure it's all real and that Blake Shelton isn't just a complete fantasy. So when he watches the man half a room over, sound asleep, it all comes full circle, the thoughts and the feelings, the memories and the fantasies. And in that moment he knows that things will never be the same. He knows that he is undeniably, uncontrollably, fucked.

He finds himself hovering over the edge of Blake's bed, sense never set it, but even if it did he wouldn't pay it any respect. He leans in closer, places his hands on the matters, straddled over Blake's body. Blake opens his eyes, slowly at first until realization sinks in.

"What are you doing?" Blake breaths into his chest.

"Shut up." All fear is gone as Adam cuts off the remaining distance between them and lays his lips on Blake's, immediately wanting it and more as soon they touch. Blake makes a strangled noise and Adam sucks it down, smashes their mouths together tighter because he wants to believe Blake needs this as much as he does. He can feel the control Blake exhibits, anticipated that he'd be the soft, tender, take it slow type and maybe Adam feels bad, maybe he feels guilty for forcing this on Blake, but God he really doesn't care, he wants it just like this and every second that Blake's lips are pressed against his own is another second that he can explore, map out this new exciting territory. When he feels fingers intertwine in his hair he falls apart completely. He surrenders like he's never been touched in his life.

Adam pulls away first, slowly, just enough to catch his breath and see the outline of Blake's face in the dark room.

"W-wow," Blake breathes, and the fact that Blake can't even speak without stammering because of what Adam started is enough to scare the shit out of him and put him over the moon.

"I couldn't sleep," Adam says without reason.

He pushes himself off Blake, walks blindly back to his bed and buries himself neck deep in covers.

He hears sheets rustle next to him. "Yer just gonna pretend like that didn't happen?" Even from over here, even in the dark, Adam can hear the complete surprise in the country singer's voice, can see his eyebrows raised and his mouth hanging open and his cheeks flushed.

Adam presses his face into the pillow and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to pretend he's not currently living out a scene in a cheesy romantic comedy. "No, it definitely happened," he says, disbelief taking over his voice.

He hears the other bed creak and he knows that Blake is now right beside him. He rolls over and dares to bring his eyes to Blake's.

Blake's voice is deep and his words are raw. "I really want to kiss you again."

Giddiness bubbles inside Adam, and he suddenly feels like a thirteen year old girl on her first date but Blake _wants_ to kiss him and if he's a pathetic teenager because of it so be it. He pushes the covers back and sits upright, waits as Blake lowers himself onto his bed then takes his face in his hands and presses their lips together. It's slow and deliberate, just like Adam imagined Blake would be, yet it sends all the right feelings through Adam. He forgets to breathe but doesn't even want to, as if doing so would end this beautiful, unreal moment, send him back to reality where his straight best friend is sleeping soundly and so is he, back to before Adam started this dangerous rollercoaster ride. Then he breathes, and it's not over, Blake is still kissing him and his heart is ready to burst from his chest at the notion that he _has_ Blake. He has him, and he never wants to let go.

***

They awaken to a soft sunny morning. Blake ended up staying in Adam's bed after the kiss, they both fell asleep readily and tangled up in sheets and each other. Adam uses his first waking moments to take in everything about the man, the heat of his body, his strong yet gentle touch, his earthy scent. Blake stirs a moment later, stretches his long limbs across the bed as Adam's eyes trace them.

"This is too gay."

Blake looks at him. "And what happened last night wasn't?"

Adam smiles. "Don't think about it too hard."

Last night was unexpected, brash, forceful, not innocent and cuddly like it is now. Adam doesn't know which he likes better, which suits them more. One thing's for certain, they're both crazy.

Blake gets up and walks over to his suitcase. Adam rises reluctantly after he's left alone and meanders in the direction of the bathroom. Something compels him to look back at Blake, who's standing over his suitcase, smiling playfully. Adam feels a heat creep to his cheeks, and he slips into the bathroom before he disintegrates under the country singer's blue-eyed stare.

He takes a long, hot shower as his mind kicks into overdrive with the memories of last night. He waits for the regret to set in, but it never does. His feelings are real and they're here to stay, and that satisfies him enough to leave him smiling like an idiot alone in the bathroom.

"Were you singin' in there?" are the first words out of Blake's mouth as Adam walks out, tightening the towel around his waist.

"I swear that fucking Honey Bee song of yours is a curse."

"You were singing _that song?_ "

While Blake hands him a T-shirt, Adam watches as Blake's eyes dart over his body.

"Don't flatter yourself, cowboy." Adam says, sliding the shirt over his head. Blake walks away and Adam chews on his lip, satisfied with the fact that Blake definitely just checked him out. He considers dropping the towel and putting on pants as well, but decides against it. All they did was kiss a few times. He has no idea what that means for them or where they stand.

"Thought I'd order room service. What do you want?"

Adam collapses on his bed. "Something big."

" _Big?_ " Blake echoes, cocking an eyebrow.

"Ew no, don't say it like that! Now you've ruined my appetite."

"How about two specials," Blake says, flipping through the menu.

"That's cool with me."

They enjoy plates of eggs, bacon, hash browns and coffee, sitting cross-legged on their beds like little kids. It's almost like they didn't make out like animals last night. When the thought crosses Adam's mind again he nearly chokes on a mouthful of scrambled eggs. He downs half a glass of water nervously.

"How long?" Blake asks.

"What do you mean?" He answers, playing dumb. Delaying the answer. 

"How long have you been thinkin' about doin' that? Or did that fall rattle your brain."

"No! I wanted..." he watches Blake's inquisitive expression, and suddenly loses the words in his throat. "I wanted to," he finishes meekly.

Blake looks down at his food. "I've known it since the day you walked into that first meeting."

"I'm flattered, but I know you didn't know then."

"I wish I did." The sincerity in Blake's voice catches Adam a little off guard.

"Oh," is all that comes from Adam's mouth.

"Really, how long?" Blake presses.

"Why is it so important? Why do I do anything I do?" But he knows that won't cut it, not for this. He sighs. " _I thought_ when you were about to kiss me on the beach. But I don't really know. A long time, I think."

Admitting that to Blake is hard enough, let alone himself. Until last night, he never realized that something inside of him was missing, even though he felt whole, and that something was finally getting to know Blake as more than a friend. Of finally giving all those cheeky looks, pecks on the cheek, and innocent hand holds a chance to _mean_ something. The realization feels good, even though it scares the hell out of him. He smiles, and Blake smiles back.

"You wanna stay here longer?" Blake asks.

"Nah, let's get back on the road."

Blake sets his plate aside and wipes a napkin across his face. "Good. 'Cause this _is_ getting too gay."

Adam laughs, and he's more excited than ever to be back in Blake's beat-up old pick-up, driving to hell knows where and experiencing hell knows what. He really doesn't know what to expect anymore. He wonders if he'll ever get to kiss Blake again, but even if he didn't he wouldn't mind, they just took a huge leap in their relationship and that's enough to keep him content for a long time.

It's so novel yet all too familiar.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. I've had some more motivation lately so hopefully I'll get serious about writing this again.

Blake drives on autopilot, not paying attention to his hand on the wheel, his foot on the gas, while his mind wanders through the events of yesterday. Then he'll be back, he'll feel the truck rumbling beneath him and notice Adam sitting beside him and it's difficult to make sense of how it all fits, how his life has been changed so much yet somehow it's no different.

They haven't mentioned the kiss again, but rather dabbled in topics from texts from back home to which rest area they want to stop at next. Small talk still feels carefree and normal, yet Blake wonders if it's been this easy so far because neither of them has yet dared to venture into anything pertaining to last night because they don't really want that conversation to start.

"I'm hungry," Adam says as he digs through his bag on the floorboard. He pulls out a bag of potato chips and rips it open.

Blake eyes the bag. "I'll take something. What else have you got in there?

Adam bends over again. "Uhh...granola bars, apples, more chips..."

"Whatever's the unhealthiest."

Adam tosses a bag of BBQ chips onto his lap. He immediately regrets it, struggling to eat them and drive at the same time. He can feel Adam's eyes on him and it shouldn't bring a prickle to his cheeks but it does.

"Need some help?"

"I got it." Blake proceeds to open the bag up wide and dump the contents into his mouth.

"So much for trying to keep this thing clean, huh?" Then Adam tilts his head back and does the same thing. He licks his lips afterwards, and Blake remembers them last night. They were so warm and soft yet strong and confident, tainted with a hint of his drink of choice and South Carolina saltwater. When Blake looks over at Adam, with chip crumbs dribbled down his chin, he can't help but feel right at home.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Adam wipes at his face with a shirt sleeve. "Shoot."

"Why'd you come with me?"

Adam sighs dramatically. "We've been over this already."

"If you hated me you wouldn't've come."

"Do you need a confession that I _love you_?" Adam coos.

"It'd be nice," Blake answers.

Adam turns serious. "I didn't come out here for that. You know, for an answer, for, us."

 _But you found one anyway_.

Adam leaves it there and begins rummaging through his food stash again.

Blake wonders just how deep the younger man's feelings for him run. He wants Adam to elaborate but he doesn't push it, not yet anyway. He lets it go, lets Adam avoid the touchy subject and keep it light because shit, things are so much easier between them when they're light. Uncomplicated. Free of sexual tension. Yet there's always at least a hint of it with Adam around.

"I thought we could head up to New York, maybe check out Niagara Falls," Blake says.

" _New York_? That's like a thousand miles away. You sure we wanna go that far out of the way?"

"It's not out of the way if you have no idea where the hell you're goin'."

"True. But _Niagara Falls_? That's like...too romantic, don't you think?"

"Shut up. We're goin'."

Adam doesn't say anything else but regardless Blake knows what he wants to do, he didn't come all this way just to turn around and go back. Then again, he didn't come all this way to fall for Adam either.

Adam pulls out his earbuds and gets lost in his own little world, listening to music, chewing on a granola bar, occasionally stealing long stares out the window. And it hits Blake, that he loves this man, maybe not how he loved Miranda when he asked her to marry him, but he loves him nonetheless. Whatever this is, whatever they have between them and whatever may happen, he vows to try his damn hardest to make it work.

***

Blake can usually take these long truck rides and not have the driving get to him, but even though it's only late afternoon he wants nothing more than to crawl into a big warm bed and sleep until tomorrow. The passenger side also sounds inviting, except Adam is passed out cold there, his head resting lifelessly against the window glass. Blake makes a quick stop at a gas station and buys himself a coffee, hoping that the caffeine will help keep his eyes open. He sips on it as he drives and wonders why it all didn't happen sooner.

There's no denying he's always had feelings for Adam. Maybe it was convenient to cover up how real they were with how easily the two of them could do something stupidly romantic and brush it off like it was nothing but a play for the cameras. Or maybe it was because he and Adam are both straight men with the expectation from the public to be just that. Even with all the bromance propoganda he never thought people actually thought that way of them. Or did they?

The kiss last night could have just as easily been another one of those times that they just brushed off without a second thought. But it was different, because he felt it and Adam felt it—this time, it was all raw feelings, no jokes, no cameras. It was real, and it meant something.

Adam stirs next to him, shifts his weight to pull one leg to his chest. He's beat, and Blake is right there with him. New York and the unanswered questions swirling around in his head could wait until tomorrow.

Blake pays attention to the upcoming road signs, searching for an exit with enough choices of restaurants and hotels. He takes one a couple miles down.

"What are we doing?" Adam asks drowsily. "Isn't it still early?"

"It's four-thirty," Blake answers, "But I'm about to fall asleep and you are asleep."

"It's okay, I can drive," Adam says, sitting up straight.

Blake shakes his head. "We're stopping. If just for an hour or two."

Adam doesn't protest further. Blake pulls up to the drive-thru of a Burger King.

He looks to Adam. "Want anything?"

Adam leans across his lap to read the menu. "Yeah...get me a double cheeseburger and a large fry."

Blake eyes him. "All that after what you've eaten?" He really should know better than to question it, knowing Adam's appetite, which is big enough for the both of them.

Adam points to the speaker. "Shut up and order."

The girl on the other end explodes with giddiness at the sound of Blake's voice. It takes him way too long to get their order in, and he pulls away quickly as soon as he gets the total.

Adam snickers. "Wait til we get up there and she sees your face."

"Not if she sees Adam Levine's face instead."

Adam smiles and shakes his head. "No. No fucking way. She's obviously a fan of Blake Shelton, so Blake Shelton she shall get."

"Where are you goin'?" Blake asks as Adam opens his door.

"The back. I'm not having any part in this."

"Yer gonna hide back in there like a little baby?"

"Yep."

Adam gets out, and it's their turn at the window so Blake pulls up and leaves him behind.

Adam was right. As soon as the window opens, the girl's mouth drops open. Blake grabs the bags she holds out to keep her from dropping them. She squeals something incoherent just as Adam makes it back in the truck, and when she sees him suddenly appear next to Blake, Blake doesn't think he's ever seen such utter surprise on someone's face in his life. 

Blake hands her the exact amount and thanks her, and Adam leans across the console to wave at her. She covers one hand over her mouth and waves nervously. Blake shoves Adam back and drives away before the whole restaurant and all the neighbors know about them.

Blake stares incredulously. "What the _hell_ was that?"

"What?" Adam shrugs and starts removing items from his bag.

"That little stunt at the end. I thought you were stayin' out of it. You nearly gave that girl a heart attack."

"Yeah well you were about to drive off without me."

"No I wasn't."

"You're right. You'd miss me too much."

Blake smiles because it's true.

"I'm awake now. I'll drive."

They switch places, Blake settling into the passenger side and looking forward to enjoying his meal with two hands for once.

"Dammit!"

Blake looks on with a smirk as Adam struggles to eat, drive, and not drop anything. Blake picks up a fry and aims it toward Adam's mouth. Adam takes it then nods toward the burger in his lap.

"No way," Blake says.

"You wanted me to drive!"

"You offered!"

"We should've just stayed put."

"Where are you goin' anyway?"

"Just give me the damn burger!"

Blake picks it up and takes a big bite out of it before finally giving it to Adam.

"You're so gross," Adam mumbles between bites.

Blake makes a bold move and reaches a hand across the console to place it on Adam's thigh. Adam takes a hand off the steering wheel and places it on top of Blake's, and Blake loves the feeling of it there, the warmth in those long, beautiful fingers. Adam runs them over Blake's hand, then stops when he meets Blake's wedding band. He pulls his hand away and so does Blake. Blake rubs at the ring nervously.

"Blake, what are we doing?" Adam asks without taking his eyes off the road.

Blake lets out a breath. "I don't know." He looks at the ring, and his eyes burn at the sight of it and his heart burns in shame. He's still technically married to Miranda. She doesn't even know that he plans on divorcing her.

Adam presses down harder on the gas, as if trying to get away from all of this. But he can't, neither of them can, because no matter what happens next they can't change what they've already lived through.

"I can take it off, if it'd make you more comfortable."

"You're still married, you know. And I'm not gay."

It's burns, a swift slap right in the face, because as much as Blake wanted this to work Adam may be realizing this is all one big mistake, considering ending it all right now and never mentioning it ever again.

He's mad, Blake can tell, the way he's pressed his lips together and keeps his eyes locked straight ahead. Guilt washes over Blake and he stays rigid in his seat, hands to himself, and plays absently with the ring on his finger, wondering how one tiny inanimate object can change a life for the better or for the worse.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. I'll be honest, I haven't been writing at all lately due to some personal stuff, but I've had a wave of motivation lately and hopefully I can get this one finished and some new ones up. Thanks so much for sticking with me!
> 
> P.S. this chapter was a bitch to write.

A day later they somehow end up right where Blake said they would, upstate New York. Adam's been to the city more times than he can count, but there's something significantly different about the rest of the state. The rolling green hills, apple orchards, and small towns dotting the highways are a new world, a stark contrast to everything he's used to. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't thoroughly enjoying the fresh landscape. The east at its finest.

They take an afternoon trip to Niagara Falls, arriving just before sunset. The crowds are clearing out, and they find a perfect spot overlooking the water, claiming it as their own. Blake hangs back as Adam leans against the railing on crossed arms and watches the light dancing on the falls. 

"You know they say the Canada side is better," Blake say behind him. His voice is calm, matching the chilling evening air.

"Is that like saying this side is shit?" He hears Blake laugh, and he turns around to nod to Blake's pockets. "You got your passport?"

"Afraid not." Blake joins him on the railing then, stands close enough that their arms nearly touch. A breeze picks up and soothes Adam's burning cheeks. He looks down at the water below, wishes he could jump in and escape his world that has become so damn complicated. 

A glint of light catches his eye. It's from Blake's ring, and Adam looks at it, feels that same anger and confusion. His eyes wander to Blake's face just as Blake's phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and walks away from the railing. 

"Miranda?" Blake says, sounding a bit too excited for Adam's taste. Adam should have seen this coming, known that his wife would wonder where he was at one point or another, she wouldn't be on tour forever. Yet jealously burns within him, and he cranes his neck to listen to the conversation. He only catches little snippets on Blake's end—"Yes", "I know", "Adam", "New York", "I'm sorry." He wonders if Blake will mention everything he's told Adam. 

Blake returns a few minutes later, resumes his close proximity to Adam and Adam shifts his weight from one foot to another.

A moment passes before Blake says, "That was Miranda."

"I know." Adam instinctively places a hand on top of Blake's. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, she was...sweet. Understanding."

Adam furrows his brow. " _Understanding?_ "

"She understood that I needed some time away. She said she thought the break would be good for us."

"You're divorcing her, man."

"But she doesn't know that yet."

"But now she thinks everything is fine between you two and when you come home you'll be the perfect couple."

"She's still my wife, Adam. You said so yerself. And I'm honoring that commitment for now."

"So you're just going to lie to her and pretend her whole world isn't going to change as soon as you get back?"

"Forget it. We came out here to have a good time and that's what we're gonna do." 

"Well I can't just forget it." He could say it now, that he's developed strong feelings for Blake and he's a possessive little fucker. "What, are you _regretting_ this? Do you wish I had never come with you? Are you still _in love_ with her?"

Blake eyes him then shakes his head. "You know what, I'm not doing this with you." He turns and walks away, doesn't stop or look back. 

"Blake come on. You know I deserve an answer." 

Blake keeps walking. "Seriously? You're leaving? Why are you acting like such a jerk?"

Blake turns back around. "Are you comin' or not? 'Cause if not I can call you a cab."

Adam almost laughs, flabbergasted. So much for a perfect evening. 

"Yeah," he calls. "I'm comin'." He catches up to Blake and they walk to the truck, Blake a step ahead of Adam the whole time, a tension building between them and neither of them saying a word until Blake parks outside the hotel they checked into earlier. 

"I just need time to think about this," Blake says, turning to Adam in the passenger seat. "You have to understand."

"Yeah. I understand. Now I understand where your priorities lie." Adam jumps out of the truck and slams the door behind him. He hurries to the entrance, makes it through the revolving door and then Blake is right behind him, he can feel it, but he just keeps going, catching the eyes of the desk clerks and tourists as he continues in his raging temper tantrum.

"Adam, hold on," he hears Blake say, but he sneaks in an elevator and punches the four before Blake has time to get in with him. On their floor he fumbles with the room key as Blake comes sprinting down the hall toward him. He lets himself in and Blake is right on his heel.

Adam whips around. " _I kissed Adam and we slept together but I still love my wife and I still want to be with her_."

"I don't want to be with her anymore, I told you that."

"Is that why you dragged me out here? Is this a fucking rebound? Some sort of mid-life crisis?"

"No! God Adam, what're you doin'?"

Adam narrows his eyes. "I think the better question is, what are you doing Blake?"

Blake throws his hands up. "I'm out here tryna have a good time with you!"

"Bullshit," Adam sputters. 

"What's yer problem all of a sudden?" 

"Oh, my problem? I don't get how you still have feelings for her after all we've been through. I thought you-"

The sentence hangs there as Adam bites down on his lower lip. There's a silence now, the unspoken words lingering in the room. 

"What?" Blake says softly. "That I liked you?" 

Adam's heart starts pounding in his chest as the truth looms nearer, then Blake takes one long stride and reaches out for him, pulls him up against his chest and kisses him hotly on the mouth. 

Adam kisses him back with the same vigor, and when they part his lips are wet and sticky. "Fuck me," he breathes. 

He closes in on Blake again, and although he wants to rip his ass to shreds for being a bastard he melts into his body like he doesn't have two legs to hold him up. Blake spins him around and shoves him harshly down on the nearest bed and their lips meet again. Blake slides his tongue in and out of Adam's mouth, Adam groaning when he feels the sharp sting of teeth. He grabs at the button's of Blake's shirt and tears them off, then feels Blake's hands on his stomach, pushing his T-shirt up to his neck, and Adam raises his hands above his head so Blake can slide it off and toss it somewhere across the room. Blake's hands caress his shoulders, then slide their way down to his beltline, and Adam shivers when they meet the sensitive skin there. He claws at Blake's back and bucks his hips, grunting when he feels a hint of pleasure begging to be attended to. Blake's hot breath winds down his neck and he tilts his chin back to feel wet lips slide down it in one smooth motion.

"You're such a fucking asshole," Adam says between breaths, "Son-of-a-bitch."

Blake nips at skin on his shoulder, causing a whimper to escape from his throat. 

"I've been called worse."

Adam's desire to be closer to Blake eats at him from the inside out. He needs to lose himself into the other man. He needs to lose himself into this man who he has called his best friend for years, who is so different from himself yet so the same, whose mysterious, southern-charm ways have continued to allure and inspire him and always keep him coming back for more. 

***

A glance to his side lets him know that last night wasn't just a dream. Blake is propped up on an elbow, gazing up at Adam.

"Did we...do it?," Adam asks carefully.

"Yeah. We did."

"Damn."

"Damn right. You and me...don't seem real."

The biggest understatement of the century. Adam's head swims with the memories as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets to his feet. His night was filled with sex with his best friend. _Great_ sex. He finds his shirt draped on a lampshade in a corner and tugs it on.

"Awfully quiet," Blake says.

He shimmies into a pair of jeans. "Let's not talk about it. Let's just let it be."

"You regrettin' it?"

Adam shakes his head. "Not at all." It's a tad embarrassing to admit, but the words roll off his tongue without contemplation. Blake tends to have that affect on him. 

"Good. Me neither."

Adam turns back around, and Blake is staring at him. He feels a heat creep to his cheeks and he smiles slightly as Blake looks away and pretends to smooth out the sheets. 

"So," Adam changes the subject, "Breakfast? Or are we hittin' the road?" He walks into the bathroom to brush his teeth and watches Blake in the mirror.

"I figured we'd grab something somewhere."

"Sounds good."

"Do you realize we've been gone almost two weeks?"

Adam rinses and spits and rubs a towel across his face. "Shit. I don't know if it feels like it's been two seconds or two years."

"I wonder what's happenin' back home. You heard from anybody?"

Adam shakes his head. "Other than James the other day, nada." He returns to the bedroom and shoves his toilet trees into his suitcase. 

"Your shirt came off last night you know," Adam says absently when the thought strikes him.

"Yeah 'cause you took it off a'me."

"Whatever. I still deserve some honor or something for it."

"Don't flatter yourself. It probably ain't gonna happen again."

It's a slight stab in the chest, as Adam assumed after last night they were on a new level and Blake would be comfortable undressing around him, but he bites his tongue and knows he's lucky to have gotten what he did. They're treading in new territory, and he sure as hell doesn't want to fuck it up because his imagination ran away with him. 

"Ready?" Blake calls to him.

"Yeah. You're not showering or anything?"

Blake stands up. "Naw, let's hit the road."

As Adam follows Blake out of the room, he takes one last glance around, and is hit with a wave of feelings that make him smile to himself. 

He'll let himself believe that Blake loves the lingering scent of Adam on him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in a day and edited it in a day. I'm kinda proud of myself.

_"You're still married to Miranda. You're still married to Miranda. You're still married. Miranda. Miranda. Miranda."_

The words play themselves on an endless loop in Blake's head. Adam has reminded him of them countless times on this trip, yet he's willingly put his lips on Blake's, run his fingers down his chest, laid on top of him, breathing hot air into his mouth. It's all so contradictory. Blake's never felt the need to complain about trying to figure Adam out, but this time he wishes he could set everything straight. At least in his mind. 

"You okay?" Adam asks from his place in the driver's seat.

"Just thinkin' where we need to go from here."

They've reached the end of their cross-country drive, and the logical thing to do would be to head back in the direction they came, back to everything familiar, the place that they're both lucky enough to call home. But lately every time Blake looks at Adam, even if it's just a stolen glance, he feels more at home in his presence than anywhere else in the world. And that scares him, because he knows with each passing day that they're out here, away from all their troubles in L.A., he finds himself less and less wanting to ever return. 

He doesn't realize he's staring at Adam until the younger man says something. "Dude, what, do I have food on my face or something?"

Blake quickly looks away. "No, you're good." He fights back a blush, suddenly feeling like a hopeless teenage romantic. 

"Speaking of food..."

Blake sighs. "Don't tell me you're hungry again."

"Actually I was thinking of something else that I wouldn't mind having in my mouth."

The truck goes deadly silent, and a few moments later Blake is stifling a laugh. How Adam can throw dick jokes around like they're nothing amazes him. 

"What's so fucking funny?" Adam asks.

"Nevermind."

"Hey I know I'm not alone on this. For a Oklahoma redneck who's never done it with a guy you sure went at it last night."

"How d'you know I've never done it with a guy?"

Adam whips his head in Blake's direction, and this time Blake laughs. "I'm kiddin' pretty boy, don't get yer panties in a wad."

Adam's cheeks turn red. "Let's talk about something else."

Blake settles back in the passenger seat. "Fine by me."

"Earlier you said you were thinking about what to do next. And I'm wondering, since when do you think?"

"Since I realized we're headin' back towards home."

"I don't want to go home." The conviction in Adam's voice surprises Blake, and also comforts him.

"Me neither," he agrees.

"So what now? Keep living like gypsies for a few days longer?"

Blake thinks for minute, then says, "I've got an idea."

Adam rolls his eyes. "Just what we need, more of your bright ideas."

"Jus' trust me on this one."

***

"We haven't taken a single picture together this entire trip."

Adam is standing outside the truck pumping gas, when he comes to rest his arms on the open driver's side window. 

"That needs to change," Blake says. He takes the ball cap off Adam's head and turns it around backwards, then pulls his phone from his pocket and leans in close to him. Blake holds up his middle finger while Adam makes duck lips and Blake snaps a picture. 

"Oh that's going on Twitter for sure," Adam laughs. 

"Yeah as my profile picture!"

"Holy shit do it!" Adam squeals. "No wait, don't!"

"Too late." Blake shows Adam his phone screen and Adam groans.

Adam turns his cap back around. "I look like an idiot."

"Ya don't just look like one."

"Ha ha." He returns the nozzle to the pump and hops in the passenger side. 

Blake pulls away from the station, both windows rolled down letting in warm Ohio day, the radio blasting a local country station. Adam has the sleeves of his T-shirt rolled up, and as he plays on his phone Blake can see his muscles flexing, the tattoos dancing with them. 

" _Out here havin' the time of my life with my number one!!!_ " Adam reads, the caption that Blake included with the picture of them. "Nice. Location included and all. Tech savvy."

A minute late Adam asks, "Is that true? You're really having the time of your life with me?" From the tone of his voice Blake can tell he's a bit surprised at Blake's choice of words.

"Well yeah," Blake admits, "Ain't you?"

"Definitely," he answers quickly, "But now the whole world knows what we're up to." 

"Bet they don't know what we did last night."

Adam snorts. "True." He takes another jab at his phone screen then sets it aside. "Retweeted," he states proudly with a smile on his face. 

"I think I'm gonna dye my hair again," Adam says later, running a hand through his.

Blake remembers the bleach-blonde that the rockstar sports every now and again. "For the sake of humanity, please don't."

Adam looks at him and cocks his head. "You should do yours too."

"No." 

"We came out here to do stupid stuff."

"No fucking way."

Adam shrugs. "Suit yourself. But it'd be better than that..." Adam gestures to his hair, " 'look' you've got going on there."

Truthfully, it drives Blake crazy when Adam does crazy things to his hair. Crazy in a good way. It could be green and purple for all he cares, he'd still have a hard on for the guy.

He wants to jerk the truck over to the side of the road right then and there and kiss the little bastard senseless.

At the next pull-off he does.

He heaves himself over to Adam's side and Adam finds his lips instantaneously. Blake knocks the cap off his head and Adam's hands move to caress his chin, touching his stubble and trailing down his neck to his shirt collar, where experienced fingers work to undo the buttons. Blake slides Adam's shirt off his shoulders smoothly and throws it on the floorboard. He feels hot wet tongue slip down his throat, then a nip of teeth on his swollen lips. Blake's hands find Adam's body, where a thin layer of sweat has formed, and he allows his hands to glide easily across his ribcage, touching, feeling, remembering. 

A siren blares in the distance, and with each passing second looms closer. Blake parts from Adam's mouth and turns to look out the rear window, spotting a police car headed their way. 

Adam whips his head around to look too. "Shit," he hisses. He fumbles for his shirt on the floor and Blake is closing the buttons on his just as a policeman taps on his window. 

Blake rakes a hand through his hair and rolls the window down. "Afternoon, officer."

The man peers inside past Blake, sees Adam with his shirt halfway on and his hair a rumpled mess. 

"Were we speeding?" Adam asks, straight-faced. 

The officer is not amused. "License and registration, please."

Blake pulls his driver's license from his wallet and reaches for the glove compartment for the registration papers, bumping Adam's knee in the process. He fights back the urge to laugh as he hands both to the officer.

"Hey, don't I know you?" The officer says, looking from Blake to his driver's license picture and back again.

"Uh, I don't think—"

"Yeah, you're on that TV show. That singing show! You too!" He points at Adam. 

"Could you tell us what we were doing wrong?" 

"My daughter's a huge fan!" The officer says, ignoring Blake. "Could I get your autographs?"

Blake looks at Adam and Adam shrugs. The officer rips a piece of paper from his notebook and hands it to Blake, who signs it and then passes it to Adam. Blake hands it back to him and the man's face lights up.

"She's not going to believe this!"

"So uh, are you gonna give us a ticket or..." Adam starts.

"Nah, you boys are good," the officer says, still staring at the paper like it might disappear if he looks away from it, "Just don't let me catch you doing it again." With that he returns to his car and speeds away.

Adam breaks the silence. "What the fuck did we do that we're not supposed to do again."

"Beats the hell outta me."

Adam pulls his shirt down over his stomach.  
"What kind of hermit is he if he only knows us from 'that TV show'?" 

As Blake signals to pull back onto the highway he catches a glimpse of a sign that reads _No parking on shoulder_.

Adam sees it too. "You almost got us arrested just to kiss me. How does that feel?" When Adam looks back at him he's smiling. 

Blake doesn't answer, just laughs, because he and Adam both know how it feels. It's the best feeling in the world, one that no stupid _no parking_ sign can come between. 

He'd do that shit again in a heartbeat. 

***

"Twitter is going absolutely nuts over our picture."

Adam has one leg pulled up against his chest, scrolling frantically on his phone. 

"Oh yeah," Blake glances sideways, "What are people sayin'?"

"Everything and anything you can imagine. @adh45 just _knows_ that we're dating."

That sparks Blake's attention. Never did he ever stop to think about what they are anymore. Still just friends? Or _boyfriends_? Of course they have never even been on a date and nothing is official or even sure yet and they're both straight. But Blake guesses they're headed down that road, whether the world ever finds out every little secret or not. 

_Friends with benefits_?

"You should delete it, man. It's bound to be a national headline or something."

"No way, it's cute."

Blake can feel the cock of Adam's eyebrow. " _Cute_?"

"Well, you're cute in it."

Adam shakes his head. "Whatever you say." He turns the radio up and pulls on his sunglasses, one arm dangling out the window.

"If nothing else this trip has turned you into the person I hoped you'd become," Blake says.

Adam slides his glasses down his nose. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

Blake smirks. "A'lil more like me."

"And that's a good thing how? A big stupid...hillbilly."

Blake smiles, knowing full well that Adam's comeback attempt was to hide his true feelings. Blake knows because he does the same thing himself. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he fishes it out and a text Miranda flashes across the screen.

"What is it?" Adam asks when he notices Blake staring at it for a little too long. 

"Nothing." He deletes the message and pockets the phone. 

"Hey look! We made it to Indiana!" Adam exclaims, pointing to the state welcome sign. "Man, I haven't been here in years."

"What's so damn special about Indiana?"

Adam shrugs. "Nothing. It's just the first state sign I've noticed."

"Must be proud of yerself."

A glance at Adam's beaming face proves that he's right. 

"So what's this big special plan of yours that you promised would be worth it?"

"You'll see. We ain't ready for it yet."

Moments pass before Adam blurts, "I'm fucking hungry."

Blake has to agree with him on that one. His stomach's been growling for the past hour.

"Drive-thrus are out, restaurants are out..." Adam says, thinking back to their past encounters. "All that's left is to eat on the crumbs in the bottom of my backpack."

"I gotta better idea." Luckily Blake sees a sign for an exit with lots of choices. He drives around looking for a grocery store, and finds one that appears local but big enough to keep him out of the limelight.

"Wait here." He leaves Adam in the truck before he has a chance to question him. Inside Blake gathers various meats, breads, chips, fruits, and desserts, along with a cooler and a bag of ice. When Adam sees him walking back to the truck he raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Blake fastens his seatbelt. "We're gonna have a picnic."

Adam laughs. "Seriously? Oh my God, this is so old school."

But half an hour later, when they're sitting in the grass under an oak tree at a quiet rest stop, Adam seems more than perfectly content, like it could have been his idea all along. 

"You know, I haven't thought about having to write music _once_ on this trip," Adam says as he rips open a package of Chips Ahoy. "Fuck it."

Lucky for Adam. Unfortunately he's had to think about the one thing he came out to forgot, his shitty excuse for a marriage. 

He watches Adam, propped up on an elbow, ripped jean-clad legs stretch out in front of him. He pops another cookie in his mouth then catches Blake staring, and without further thought Blake closes in on him, pushes him prone against the ground and kisses his sugar-coated lips. 

Blake pulls back, and Adam's shining eyes are boring into his. "What was that for?" Adam asks.

"Just 'cause."

Adam pulls him in by his shirt collar and kisses him again, long and slow. Then Blake rolls onto his back, taking Adam onto his stomach, and the grass itches through his thin shirt when Adam presses into him. Someone on a jog passes by on the sidewalk and Adam pushes away, smiling shyly down at Blake.

"It's getting late," Adam says. The sun has set, and they're left with only a lingering hint of daylight. 

"Come on," Blake says, "We're gettin' outta here."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, as promised. So sorry for the wait. If everything goes as planned there will be one chapter after this, and it may be a long one.

Adam knows their time on the road is nearing an end. It's like something out of a movie, one you haven't watched before so you don't know exactly how or when it will end but you can feel it nonetheless. Like the last chapter of a book, a fading sunset, or a kiss goodbye. 

He's letting himself get too sappy. Blake's sasquatch figure in the driver's seat brings him back to reality. 

"Seriously, _where_ are we going?"

Blake fucking smirks, the bastard, and doesn't answer him. Adam's seen about enough vast empty landscape as he can stand for one evening. Wherever Blake is taking them better be every bit worth it. 

It's twilight now, the first set of stars appearing in the dark blue sky. Adam hangs his head out the window, inhales deeply, and wonders how he got so damn lucky. If he hadn't agreed to accompany Blake on his backroad adventure none of this would have ever happened between them.

_Or would it have_?

Everything happens for a reason and all that.

They're not on the main road anymore, Adam realizes. He tries to get his bearings in the impending darkness and looks to Blake for an answer but the country singer remains relaxed and focused on the drive ahead, one arm hanging out the window. And it's then that Adam realizes what's on his mind.

Blake pulls off to the side of the little two lane road they're on. He kills the truck engine, and all they can hear is the sound of crickets and the faint roar of cars on the highway. 

"You're such a sap, you know," Adam says. 

"You said you missed it. Wished you could relive that night."

But truthfully there was no reliving _that_ night. Huddled up close to Blake in the back of his truck, stricken with confusion and fear enough to compete with a teenager because he was starting to feel something for his friend. Looking up that those stars, he felt so alive, and right at home.

"This time we have gas though," Adam adds, and Blake laughs. 

Adam follows Blake when he gets out of the truck. The country singer leans against the hood, one leg crossed over the other and shoves his hands in his pockets. The smile he gives Adam makes him want to melt and fuck him all at the same time. 

"Don't just stand there," Adam whines, "Hug me, grab my ass or something."

So Blake does, pulls Adam in close with those strong arms of his. Adam slides his hands into Blake's back pockets and presses gently. He absolutely loves the feeling of being against Blake and he can't get enough of it these days. 

Blake kisses the top of his head gently, then Adam tilts back and Blake finds his lips. Sometimes Adam forgets that this is all so new, he still gets that electrifying, butterflies-in-his-stomach feeling whenever Blake kisses him. He kind of hopes that feeling never goes away, even if and when it all becomes familiar. 

The air is muggy tonight, and a bead of sweat slides down Adam's back. He steps away from Blake and pulls his shirt off, tossing it to the ground. 

"It's really fucking hot," Adam states. As if Blake needs an explanation. 

"I know." 

Blake takes him into his arms again and starts another string of kisses, going from his lips to the tattoos at the base of his neck. Adam unbuttons Blake's shirt, and with one swift sexy motion Blake unlatches the truck's tailgate and pushes Adam into the bed. Adam slides Blake's shirt off his shoulders then unzips his own jeans, letting the top hang open slightly when Blake presses into him. Blake runs a hand down his inner thigh, stopping just short of his crotch, and Adam groans, a tightening bulge begging to be attended to. 

The larger man grinds against him, shoving Adam harder into the truck, his back sliding across it, slick with sweat. When Blake reaches down to nibble on an ear, Adam begins to lose it. He feels that heat spread all over his body, and Blake keeps rubbing against him, Adam's breath laboring and pulse quickening. One of Blake's hands travels down the side of his bare stomach and stops just short of his hips. The heat in Adam intensifies and within a few seconds every muscle is trembling, that sweet release coming in waves then slowly winding down, ending in a blissful state of nothingness. 

"Damn," Adam breathes. 

"Wanna get me off?" Blake asks.

"Pretty sure I could just look at your dick and you'd cum."

"Oh yeah?" Blake stares into his eyes. "Or I could just look at you and it'd have the same effect."

Adam blushes. He begins to sit up and button his pants. "You know how to make a guy feel special."

Blake rests an arm behind his head and leans against the truck. "I do, don't I."

"Don't flatter yourself, cowboy."

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Adam watching Blake as he gazes up at the stars. Then Blake fixes his eyes on Adam, a smile growing on his dimply face. Adam tries to look away, but every time he looks back Blake's  eyes meet his. 

"What?" He finally asks.

"Has anybody ever told you how damn gorgeous you are?"

"Yeah, you, like, a _thousand_ times."

"But I never really meant it."

Adam snorts. "Oh geez, thanks. Really."

Blake looks at him thoughtfully. "But I mean it now. Everything about you. The voice, the hair, the tattoos, the body."

"I like to think that you appreciate more about me than my looks."

Blake looks genuinely apologetic. "I didn't mean it that way. I love your heart more'n anything."

Adam looks down at his hands. "Thanks," he says. "That means a lot."

A moment passes before Blake says, "Well? Ain't you got anything to say to me?"

"Yeah, I like how you fuck." Adam dodges Blake's hand to the back of his head. 

"Kidding," he laughs, "Although that part is great. You know I love you, big country." He scoots closer to Blake and leans his head against Blake's shoulder. 

Out here, right in this moment, they're free. Free to find out that maybe they're falling in love, free to kiss and touch and sleep cuddled up in each other's embrace. What will happen when they return home in a few days? Will it all fade away? Become a distant memory, sweet while it lasted but too good to be true?

"What's wrong?" Blake asks softly. 

"Nothing," he answers. "Everything's perfect."

For now, it absolutely is.

*** 

"Blake. _Blake_! Blake, wake the fuck up."

Blake groans and rolls over to face an anxious Adam. "Mornin' to you too, princess."

Adam glances over his shoulder. "I think we've got an audience."

Blake sits up and rakes a hand through his hair. "What? Ain't nobody else out here."

"Keep your voice down," Adam shushes. 

Blake scans the surrounding landscape. About fifty yards away sits a red sports car, and through the tinted windows Blake can make out two guys in the front seat. 

Blake watches them for a minute then shakes his head. "They ain't lookin' at us."

But Adam keeps a wary eye on them. When they still don't move after a few minutes he jumps out of the truck.

"What're you doin'?" Blake calls.

But Adam pays him no attention as he saunters over to where the car is parked. 

"Adam, don't-"

"Hey douchebags!"

"Fuck," Blake curses. He follows suit and jumps over the side of truck and jogs to where Adam stands next to the car. 

"This your friend?" The guy in the driver's seat asks. He's got on dark sunglasses and he talks with a heavy northern accent. He flashes a smile at Blake. "What are two pretty guys like yourselves doin' out here?"

"We ran out of gas," Adam says flatly.

"No shit, so did we!" The driver looks from his buddy back to Adam. "Yeah, we pulled off the road just in time. Got somebody comin' though. He's still a few miles out."

Adam leans against the car and peers in through the open window. "Then care to tell me why you've been watching us?"

"We ain't watchin' you," the guy in the passenger seat says quickly. 

Driver's side guys nods. "Yeah, we been watchin' the road over there, waitin' for a black Ferrari to show up."

Blake looks behind him and realizes the guy might be telling the truth. Behind his truck the road loops in the distance, giving the guys a perfect view of any oncoming vehicles. 

"We can hook you up with some gas if ya want. Not much other chance for rescue out here."

"We're good. Thanks," Blake says. He places a hand on Adams's shoulder and squeezes gently. Adam gives them one final glare before letting Blake walk him away. 

One of the guys lets out a low whistle. " _Nice_ ass!" He calls to Adam's back. 

"You too, lumberjack!" The other says.

And in the next instant Adam is gone. Blake turns and watches him approach the men again, but before Blake has time to knock some sense into him he's off like the rocket he is.

"Listen up, you perverts. Me and my _boyfriend_ here don't really appreciate being catcalled by a couple of Yankee dick wads," Adam stares right at the driver. "And that half a tank of gas is plenty to get you back on the highway and into a sleazy motel room where you can shove this asshat's dirty dick down your throat and regret letting this nice ass walk way."

With that Adam spins on his heel and strides away. He throws a middle finger up over his shoulder and rejoins Blake on the walk back to their truck. 

"What the hell was that?" Blake asks as he climbs into the driver's seat. 

"Out of gas, my ass," Adam puffs, buckling his seatbelt. " _Black Ferrari_. Amateurs."

"How'd ya know they were bluffing?"

"Easy. That car's gas gauge doesn't go back to empty when parked, same as mine. While I was bending down to chat with fucky I checked it."

Blake is genuinely shocked at Adam right now. _Fucking genius_. He's got to give him credit, he has some major balls. 

"Why didn't I think of that?"

Adam pats the dashboard. "Because you, my friend, drive a bumkinmobile. See, aren't you glad you've got me around?"

_Hell yes_. More than he knows. 

Blake watches the car. They still haven't moved, even though Adam busted them. "Don't ya find it kinda sexy that they wanted to watch us cuddle in the back?"

Adam raises an eyebrow. "No...not really."  
But his face is flustered, and combined with his spiky unkept hair from last night he's quite a sexy bastard.

Blake eyes the rockstar with lust. "Do you know how incredibly turned on I am right now?" 

Adam's response is to lean over the console and kiss him on the lips. Screw it. Blake secretly hopes the two fuckers are watching them right now.


End file.
